Once Upon a Starry Night
by jkazzie
Summary: Story is on Hiatus. Bella has moved back to Forks following a traumatic year. She is placed into temporary foster care with the Cullen's and meets Edward who is also battling his own demons. Life isn't a fairy tale; or maybe it is! Rated M, AH E&B
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: This is my first attempt at fan fiction. I am from Australia, so please be understanding if I use spelling variations or words/descriptions/phrases that may not be familiar to North American readers. I am using the US dictionary and spell check but sometimes I might slip up.

Chapter 1 – Charlie's House

The silver Volvo I was an unwelcome passenger in, screeched to a halt in front of the house I had not seen for over four years. I couldn't help but stare at it with a sense of hunger and sadness as I noticed the aura of neglect and abandonment it showed, even though it had only been empty for about two weeks.

I sat in the car and let my eyes slowly absorb the peeling paint, the slightly dilapidated front porch and the cobwebs hanging off the porch light, swaying in the warm breeze. My minds eye conjured an image of Charlie waving me off to school as I mounted the new bicycle I'd gotten for my tenth birthday just a few days before. I tried to ignore my resentful chauffeur and temporary foster 'brother' as he encouraged me with as much foul language as possible, to exit the car so he could get the hell out of there.

I could see Dad grinning at me, triumphant that he'd taught me to ride my bike and I hadn't fallen off it once in the three days since I'd received it. It was the only athletic activity I'd mastered without suffering a slew of injuries. I pedaled expertly for about three feet before I twisted myself around to grin at Charlie and lifted an arm to wave at him enthusiastically.

That had been my first mistake.

I felt the pull in the handlebars as the bright orange bike listed to the right suddenly. I remembered whipping my torso around so that it was once again front and center and saw looming in front of me the large tree in the front yard that shaded the driveway.

That's when I made my second mistake.

Instead of gently using the hand brakes and placing my feet on the ground to slow me down, I inexplicably, but I realized shortly after, predictably, panicked and tried to correct my trajectory by yanking the handlebars to the left. I still hadn't braked. At this point, I was careening uncontrollably down the driveway on a collision course with the garbage cans parked at the kerb.

That's when I made my third mistake. I closed my eyes!

I accepted with a sense of inevitability that Charlie would be driving me to school and I would be covered in garbage because the cans hadn't been emptied yet. I could vaguely hear the truck down the street interspersed with Charlie's shouts to 'lookout'. I screamed and heard the pounding of Charlie's booted feet on the driveway behind me just before I crashed into the garbage cans and flew over the handlebars.

I woke up in the Forks general hospital two hours later with a concussion and eight new stitches in my scalp, a three inch bald patch on the side of my head where the nurses had shaved my hair away and a broken wrist already encased in its shiny white cast. My bike had a mangled front wheel and a broken bell. Charlie had promised to fix it, but he never did. He knew that I would always be safer with two feet touching the ground at all times, and sometimes not even then.

My companion had gotten out of the car during my trek down memory lane and had stalked around to the passenger side to yank open the door and yell at me to _'get the fuck out of the car already'._ I rubbed my old wrist injury fondly and released the seat belt to climb from the car.

Apparently, I'd spent the last five minutes peering out the windscreen ignoring everything he said. One thing I had come to know with certainty in the short time I have known this young man, was that he wanted what he wanted when he wanted it, he was over-the-top in everything that he did and said, he was decidedly narcissistic and he really _really _didn't like to be ignored. The constant barrage of foul language and whining about his fucked up first day of summer vacation was getting on my nerves and was spoiling my sense of joy and freedom about coming home at last.

I'd never asked for him to bring me here, that had been Carlisle's doing, and I'd already apologized for being the cause of his messed up plans, but that didn't seem to be good enough. Oh no, he felt the need to swear and glare at me as much as he possibly could, just in case I was too thick to understand.

I turned to look into his furious green eyes.

_'I have trouble speaking, Dickward; there's nothing wrong with my hearing or ability to understand.'_

His lips were clamped into a tight unmoving line and he gripped his messy bronze colored hair with fisted hands. He looked ready to blow a gasket if the red tinge traveling up his neck from the open button down shirt he wore was any indication. A few tufts of light bronze hair poked out from the top of the shirt invitingly, just begging to be stroked. It was a shame he was such a douchebag. He was nothing like his brother who was a jolly gentle giant, or Jasper who was calm and quiet. I couldn't work out what the three of them had in common. I shrugged and sighed audibly as I turned to walk-limp slowly up the path to the front door.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I heard from behind me. "We'll be here all fucking day at this snails pace," he muttered unkindly.

"Shut up, Edward," I responded with exasperation as I turned around to face him with my hands on my hips.

"Feel free to leave me here and I'll call you when I need to be picked up if taking an hour or so out of your day to help someone _other_ than yourself is so bloody difficult and inconvenient for you."

"Fuck you!"

"Not in a million years."

"Fuck you!" Edward repeated resentfully as he spun on his heel to stride down the path to his precious car.

"Hey," I called out to him, "what's your number so I can call you to come pick me up."

Edward didn't even turn around when he showed me the finger. He kept his digit standing at attention all the way to the car. I chuckled and watched as he roared off down the road with his arm out the window and his digit still upright until the car turned the corner and was out of sight. Shaking my head at his childish behavior, I walked up the path and slowly climbed the steep front steps of the small white clap-board house.

I took a deep breath and inserted the key into the front door lock. I had to jiggle the key a bit before it would turn. I heard the familiar sound of the tumblers rolling as the lock disengaged and then the door was swinging inwards. Light flooded the foyer of my old home, which was soon to be my new home and I closed my eyes as memories assailed all of my senses.

I heard the echo of Charlie's snores from the recliner in front of the large TV screen in the living room interspersed with the voices of commentators as they rehashed the rights and wrongs of the players and referees in whatever sports game Charlie had been watching before he fell asleep. I could almost smell the lemon floor polish the housekeeper had used to polish the timber floor boards and the scent of lavender pot pourri which always wafted from the downstairs powder-room under the stairs.

The powder-room had been one of Charlie's favorite rooms in the house except to him, it was called the 'john'. He used to have a magazine rack in there filled with magazines about fishing, hunting and law enforcement. An ashtray was hidden under the mound of toilet rolls in the basket under the hand basin. He thought I didn't know, but I did. After all, I was the one who had put the pot pourri in there to help mask the smell. Charlie just thought I was being domestic. I chuckled fondly at my memories of my Dad. Every Sunday afternoon, right after we'd eaten the roast lunch I'd cooked us, Charlie would disappear into that small room for about an hour, taking care of business, reading and sneaking a cigar.

An absence of four years and the events of the last nine months hadn't blunted my happy memories of living in this house with Charlie and before they divorced when I was two, my vague memories of Renee as well. After Mom had left, it had just been me and Charlie; the two quiet ones in the family who didn't feel the constant need to talk. Memories flooded my mind as I walked slowly through each room of the house, taking note of the neglect that had eroded away at the paintwork, the floor boards and the carpet. The drapes were almost rags; thin and discolored by the wind, sun and rain. I could see mold where the rain had lashed them because someone had obviously left the front windows open.

After a while, the stale smells of the house invaded my senses. The pervasive odor of dankness, dust, mold, grease, beer and stale cigarette smoke seem to hang in the air and decay lay thick on every surface. The walls and ceiling of every room were yellow with nicotine stains and there was a putrid looking stain on the carpet in the master bedroom that I didn't care to think about. The bathrooms were filthy and looked liked they hadn't been cleaned in years; I was afraid to look in the toilet. The stair banister was rickety and half the cupboard doors in the kitchen and laundry room were missing or hanging off. The white kitchen counter-top was no longer white and was cris-crossed with knife marks because the previous tenant hadn't bothered to use a cutting board.

The furniture and appliances that remained were probably well passed their sell-by date, but I would make do with as much of it as I could. The fridge hummed quietly so I was really hoping that it would be okay to use once I cleaned it. I girded my loins, closed one eye and opened the right hand door of the two-door fridge/freezer before expelling a sigh of relief. It was filthy but at least it was empty of unknown organisms masquerading as food which was what I'd been afraid of. I didn't even bother to open the oven door. I could tell by the condition of the cook-top and the unknown substances congealed on the outside of it, that I wouldn't like what was inside. I shuddered and wondered how people could live in such filth.

I checked out the washer and dryer. The front loader washer looked fairly new but would need to be thoroughly cleaned before I would consent to washing anything of mine in it. The dryer looked really old and was shoved in a corner underneath a stack of old newspapers, beer bottles and rags so I pretty much assumed it was dead.

I looked around at the basic furniture that remained in the house. I could recognize most of it as once belonging to Charlie. It was battered and tired looking but most of it would be as good as new once it was stripped down, sanded and refinished. The bed frames would need some work to make them useable but the mattresses would need to be replaced. I ran my hand over the old wooden kitchen table reminiscing about the meals I'd eaten at that table with Charlie and doing my homework while dinner cooked. The dining room table would have to be replaced as it was currently laying haphazardly in the center of the room in two equal pieces as though someone had karate chopped it in half. Inexplicably, the upholstered dining room chairs were in decent condition considering the state of the table.

I pulled a notepad and pen from my shoulder bag and started making lists of things that I would need to make, fix or replace in each room of the house. The magnitude of what needed doing, especially while my body was still recovering, would take every waking moment of the next three months before my junior year at high school began.

I was technically too young to be a junior, I really should have been a sophomore, but I'd always been very bright and I'd been doing my babysitters tenth grade homework when I'd been in middle school. When Mom found out I was doing Tanya's homework for her while she talked to her friends on our phone, polished her nails or made out with whatever boy she was currently dating on our sofa, she'd been furious but also proud that I was so smart that I knew more than the sixteen year old trollop she'd trusted to care for me while she and Phil went out.

Renee kicked out the trollop with a heeled foot to her backside and told her not to come back. When Tanya asked to be paid, Mom threatened to tell the high school that Tanya's homework was being done by a thirteen year old kid who had more brains in her little finger than she'd ever have underneath the bleached blond straw on her head that she called hair. Tanya left.

The next day, Mom paid a visit to my school principal and convinced the Jacksonville school district to let me skip a grade. The eighth grade work still wasn't difficult but I was less bored than I had been in seventh grade. Even through the hell of the last 9 months, I had managed to complete my tenth grade school assignments and ace my final exams even if I didn't actually attend any classes. My junior year was starting in three months time and I had a lot to do between now and then. I was also making a lot of assumptions that my plans would not be for naught because I was counting on my emancipation application being granted two days after my sixteenth birthday. I was a little apprehensive, but my lawyer, and my Florida social worker, Irina and Kate, my new Washington social worker were all confident that the judge would grant my petition.

I was pulling out my cell phone to call J. Jenks, my lawyer to arrange a transfer of money from my trust fund for the repairs to my house, when I heard a car screech to a stop out front. The blaring sound of Sex on Fire by the Kings of Leon was abruptly silenced as the motor turned off. I peered out the front window to see Edward, Emmett and Jasper leap from the car and stride up the front path. A glance at my wrist watch told me that I had been here for three hours. Apparently, Edward had decided to come back for me after all, seeing as he didn't leave me his cell phone number so I could call him.

"Open up, open up, Goldilocks," yelled Emmett as he pounded on the front door. "It's the three bears and we've come home to gobble you all up."

I opened the front door and grinned at Emmett. He grabbed me around the waist with his massive arms, picked me up and walked into the house. Jasper smiled, shook his head and simply followed Emmett in. And Edward … well Edward scowled at me and tapped his fingers against the door frame impatiently. I noticed his jacket brushing against something gray and sticky stuck to the frame.

Shit!

Emmett nuzzled my neck as though he was making good on his promise to eat me and I giggled uncontrollably before I pushed him away from me.

"Emmett, you're mixing your metaphors," I told him with a grin. "It was the Big Bad Wolf who wanted to gobble up Little Red Riding Hood, and it was the three bears who found Goldilocks asleep in their house after she ate all of their porridge … and I'm neither one of those heroines. I'm more like Belle from Beauty and the Beast, petite and brunette."

"I'm no wolf, Bella," Emmett said returning my grin, "that's Jacob Black. So who's the Beast to your Belle in this fairytale house, huh?" queried Emmett.

"The Beast would be Edward the prince who was cursed to remain beastly for all eternity until he found true love," snarked Jasper while looking pointedly at Edward who scowled and took two steps further into the foyer.

"Fucking bullshit," I heard Edward mumble. "True love is a crock of shit, it doesn't exist."

Emmett reached back with one of his massive arms and hit Edward upside the head. "What about Mom and Dad you dipshit. If their relationship's not true love, I don't know what is," countered Emmett, "and my Rosie, now she's my Goldilocks and I'm her Papa Bear."

Edward looked liked he wanted to gag at the sentimentalism coming out of Emmett's mouth. I thought Emmett was sweet – Rose was a lucky girl.

"Yeah, well … they're the exception, not the rule. I still don't believe in fucking fairy tales or true love. Now, if you're finished with the fucking reunion and bedtime stories, can we get the hell out of this stinking rat hole?" spat Edward.

Emmett just snaked his arm out to grab hold of Edward by the neck and pull him further into the house. Edward retaliated by punching Emmett in the kidney and told him to 'fuck off'. Emmett released him but only so he could slam the door shut behind Edward so he couldn't step back outside. I watched Edward with fascination. His hands twitched and he eyed the front door like he wanted to make a break for it, but something held him back. He looked at his hands and then back to the door. He shuddered and wrinkled his nose before shoving his still twitching hands into his jacket pockets and pulled his arms in close to his body. That's when I noticed the sticky mass hanging off the hem - I think it was gum.

Shit! Emmett noticed it as well and smiled evilly.

"Hey, little Bro, what's that hanging off the bottom of your jacket. It looks like old gum. Have you been saving yours for later or something?"

I think Edward actually whimpered and a look of abject horror settled on his face. He pulled his hands from the pockets and held them up like he was afraid to touch anything. He breathed deeply several times until I thought he might actually hyperventilate before reaching down to pluck tentatively at the jacket hem. The sticky, masticated mass was smeared all over the bottom of the beautiful leather jacket. Edward dropped the jacket hem like it was on fire and closed his eyes. He looked like he was praying and his nostrils flared in time with the rapid pulse pounding in his neck.

"Is he okay?" I whispered to Jasper. I was afraid I was going to have to call 911.

"Nah, but he'll get over it sooner or later."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Anxiety and OCD tendencies."

"Oh." Then, "Was it something I did?"

"Nah, it was the gum."

"Oh."

Edward finally spoke through gritted teeth. "We're going. Right now! Get your shit, Bella, or you can fucking make your own way home. I need to take a shower to get the rank smell of this house out of my hair, and if the cleaners ruin this jacket removing that fucking gum which wasn't there before I set foot into this house, I'll be sending you the fucking bill, Bella."

I actually cringed and took a step backwards in automatic response to Edwards vitriolic manner.

"Cool it, Edward," Jasper said in my defense. It's not like it's Bella's fault the previous tenant wasn't the clean freak you are. Go wait outside if you can't stand to be inside; and an ice-cube will get the gum off the jacket."

"The ice will ruin the leather when it melts," he whined.

"What's worse you shithead? The gum or a little water that will dry. No-one will notice the water mark on the hem."

"I'll fucking know!" Edward yelled pugnaciously.

Jasper just rolled his eyes at his foster brother and best friend of two years who was also his girlfriends brother and followed Emmett and I into the living room. Edward was left standing alone in the foyer, afraid to remove the jacket because he'd have to touch it again.

Emmett and Jasper looked around the dim room at the peeling paint, the threadbare rug and the sagging sofa. I could see from their expressions that they agreed with Edward but they were being more tactful, something that had been missed out of Edward's gene-pool when he was created.

"Well, Bella," Emmett said as he scratched his head, "I don't usually like to agree with anything that Edward says," Edward scowled at the dig and flipped the bird at his brother from his rigid stance in foyer, "but I have to say, in this particular case, he's right, even if he wasn't very polite about it."

I looked at Jasper for his opinion. He grimaced and shrugged his shoulder in reluctant agreement and Edward smirked at me for being proven right, something he thrived on.

Prick! Any sympathy I may have felt for his anxiety over the gum and his jacket evaporated in an instant.

"Um, yeah, I know but the house will be good as new once I'm finished with it.

"Bella, there's too much work to be done here by one little girl who's not running on all four cylinders yet. You're going to need some serious help to get this place in shape if this room is any indication of the state of the rest of the house. Not to mention the yard needs work, the outside of the house needs painting and the garage looks like it might fall over in the next storm, which will probably be tonight, because you know, this is Forks."

My shoulders slumped in defeat before I pulled myself up and spoke with determination. "Don't rain on my parade, Emmett. This house will be beautiful again and I'll do it before school starts in September. I'm pretty good with a hammer, a saw and a screwdriver I'll have you know and I can clean and paint as well which is pretty much all this house needs."

"Would you accept some help though, Bella?" asked Jasper.

"Hell, yeah," agreed Emmett.

Edward scowled again at the thought of spending any more of his time in my disgusting house.

"Oh, thanks, you guys are the best. I can't believe that two people I've only known for three days would want to help me like this especially on their summer vacation. Are you really sure though; you must have plans with Rosalie and Alice? I don't want to um … interfere with them … your plans I mean, but I would really appreciate the muscle on the bigger stuff that needs doing."

"Yeah, hell yeah," Emmett said again with a nod of his head and a flex of his massive arm muscles.

Jasper nodded and grinned.

"Alice will be itching to help as well," Jasper told me, "especially if helping has anything to do with shopping or choosing furniture and well, other stuff you might need. She just thrives on that type of thing."

Emmett was nodding his head vigorously. "Rosie will help as well. She can check out all of your appliances. That girl is amazing at fixing anything with any type of motor."

I froze at the reference to 'Alice' and 'shopping' in the same sentence followed by 'Rosalie' in the second one. I had learned within twenty-four hours of meeting her, that Alice had no concept of the meaning of the words 'budget', 'too expensive' and 'I can't afford it'. And Rosalie, well Rosalie just scared the shit out of me. She was so beautiful and tall, and blond and fearless and I don't think she liked me very much. I didn't want to assume Rose would automatically help me just because Emmett said she would. Alice, I knew, would eagerly throw herself into the project and spend the entire contents of my trust fund before the end of the summer if I let her.

"Um, well that's great, if they want to help and all, but I've got a budget I have to stick to and I'm not sure how well Alice will accept the news," I said tentatively.

Jasper put his arm around my shoulders and I winced slightly at the unexpected pressure and weight of his arm on my recently healed collar bone. Jasper didn't seem to notice and I had no intention of saying anything because it was kinda nice to be hugged by someone other than my social worker. I looked up to find Edward staring at me with narrowed eyes. Shit. Had he noticed me wincing? I tried not to stoop under the weight of Jasper's arm and returned my attention to what he was saying.

"... now Little Darlin' don't you worry none. Alice will stick to your budget if you tell her what it is. That girl can find bargains with one eye closed."

Emmett scoffed. "Yeah, but neither of her eyes are what you'd call 'cheap' eyes, now are they? Her bargain finds all have designer labels. We're all gonna have to rein her in."

"Can we fucking go yet?" snarked Edward from the foyer. He still hadn't moved.

"Are you gonna help out with this place?" Emmett snarked back.

"Will it get me the fuck out of here right now, if I say fucking yes?"

"Yes, but you have to commit to helping out for two days per week until the house is done. Agreed?"

"Fuck you. Fucking yes, alright. Now can we fucking go?"

"Alright, Bro, you wait outside and we'll be out in a minute once Bella collects her bag and stuff."

Edward turned around and stalked to the door but just stood there staring at the door knob like it would magically turn itself and open so he could step out.

"Um, Emmett?" Edward called out with a note of hysteria in his voice.

"Yeah?"

"Could you open the door?" asked Edward in a small voice.

Emmett stomped over to the door, grasped the dirty door knob, then turned and pulled it so the door would swing inwards forcing Edward to step back to avoid being struck in the head.

"Pussy," he mumbled as Edward left the house.

He responded by showing Emmett his finger as he sprinted down the front stairs to freedom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: I am from Australia, so please be understanding if I use spelling variations or words/descriptions/phrases that may not be familiar to North American readers. I am using the US dictionary and spell check but sometimes I might slip up.

Chapter 2 – Dinner Time Conversation

I was in the Cullen's massive state-of-the-art kitchen cooking dinner when Esme came home with Alice and Rosalie in tow. She flashed me a genuine smile and kissed my forehead as she passed me on her way to the freezer emerging ten seconds later with a bottle of vodka and a bag of frozen lime wedges.

She mixed herself a drink, adding soda from the bottle on the counter, kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto one of the breakfast bar stools with a sigh of relief. She slurped an enormous mouthful of her drink before she even said hello.

"What a day."

"Busy?" I asked her.

"And then some! My client is a harridan who has no taste whatsoever. She vetoed all of my design suggestions and insisted on papering her sun room in acid green striped wall paper because the color matched the feathers of her pet parrot, Peter."

"Um, why not fire her … as a client I mean?" I asked shyly and bit my lip.

"What a good idea, I might just do that, Bella," Esme said with a big smile and a salute of her glass. Esme sighed and said, "Unfortunately, she's very rich and very big in Port Angeles, in more ways that one if you get my drift."

Alice Cullen glided into the kitchen, followed by Rosalie Hale, another Cullen foster child and Emmett's girlfriend.

"Yes she is," agreed Alice in her sing-song voice. "She's the matriarch of Port Angeles society and you don't get accepted into the upper echelons of that town no matter how much money you might have, unless you get the nod of approval from her. She also weighs about 300 pounds which she squeezes into a girdle that is three sizes too small. The rolls of fat on that woman make the Good-Year blimp look small," she finished with a shudder.

"Alice, that's unkind," reproofed Esme, but shuddered in agreement.

I grinned at Alice. Rosalie snickered.

Both girls had spent the day shopping and getting their hair done, while Esme played nice-nice with her fat-cat client. Alice was wearing a different outfit to the one she left in this morning, so I assumed she was wearing whatever she'd bought. I'd seen Alice in no less that twenty-seven different outfits, counting sleepwear since I'd met her three days ago. I wondered if her closet was bigger than her bedroom because I was pretty certain that Alice had enough clothes to change morning, noon and night and not do any laundry for a year.

Rosalie's hair looked a million dollars. It was a long, straight, perfectly golden shimmer of silk hanging down her back to her waist. I almost hated her. She caught me staring at her and glared back at me before striding like a super-model to the fridge for a coke.

"You want one?" she asked Alice showing her the red can.

"Yeah."

"Rosalie, perhaps Bella might like one as well," Esme reproved. Esme was a stickler for manners.

Rosalie's mouth tightened, but she looked at me expectantly waiting for me to answer a question she hadn't asked and had no intentions of doing so.

"Ahem!" Unless she was forced to by Esme, that is.

I interjected, before Rosalie had a reason to hate me more than she already did.

"That's okay, Rosalie, thanks, but I don't really like coke. I'm more of an orange juice fan."

Rosalie reached into the fridge and pulled out the bottle of orange juice and got me a glass. She threw Esme an _'are you happy now'_ expression and plopped down onto the last vacant breakfast bar stool. The other one was occupied by Alice who was madly texting on her iPhone. It kept pinging every twenty seconds or so with a new message.

I stirred the gravy I was making and asked quietly, "Who's she texting?"

"Jasper," snickered Rose.

"But he's in the basement playing some X-Box game with Emmett."

"Alice has been banned from the basement during X-Box tournaments because she distracts Jasper and she chatters incessantly," explained Esme with a smile, "but, my Alice, she found a loop-hole."

I cocked a brow at Esme in query.

"Jasper never said she couldn't text him when they were playing X-Box."

"Does Jasper ever win, if he's always replying to Alice?"

"Nope," confirmed Rosalie, "which is why, I suspect Emmett doesn't discourage her. My Emmett is very competitive and he likes to win ... in any way that he can."

We all laughed when joyful whoops sounded up from the basement. Emmett had clearly won. I could hear Jasper mumbling under his breath as he stomped up the basement stairs to the kitchen. He glared at Alice for about three seconds, but his eyes softened when she danced over to him and kissed him right there in the middle of the kitchen in front of her Mom.

Esme just smiled and shook her head.

"What are you doing, Bella?"

"I thought I'd make dinner for us all. I know that you were away all day and there was a joint of beef in the fridge so … um … I hope that's okay?" I bit my lip, I was afraid that I may have overstepped my mark. This was Esme's home and Esme's kitchen and she might not want me intruding this way. I bent my head, allowing my hair to fall forward and bit my lip while I stirred the gravy. It was nearly ready.

Esme leaned across the kitchen island, lifted my chin gently with her soft warm hand and smiled at me. "It's more than okay, Bella. This is your home now for as long as you want it and need it. You can cook if you want to. I just don't want you to feel as though you have to."

"Oh no, not at all. I love cooking. I used to cook for Charlie and then my Mom and Phil all the time. Dad couldn't make anything more than eggs on toast and burnt steak and Renee could only make spaghetti sauce. If I didn't cook, I didn't eat," I explained with a grin.

"Well as long as it's something you want to do, then that's okay. What are we having, anyway?"

"Hmm, Standing rib roast beef, popovers (Yorkshire puddings), roast potatoes and butternut squash (butternut pumpkin) and baby peas sauteed with pearl onions. I … um … also made an apple and blackberry pie for dessert. I used the apples you had in the fridge – they were going a little soft. I hope, that's okay?"

"That's fine, Bella and it smells delicious. I'm glad you found a use for the apples. I bought them hoping my ungrateful children would eat something healthy for a change, but I don't know why I bothered. If their food doesn't arrive frozen from a box to the microwave, they think it's poison."

"Nah, Esme, it's not that," said Rosalie, "you just can't cook and neither can we."

"Very funny," said Esme with a smile and a gentle tap to Rosalie's nose.

"Why is Edward whimpering in the laundry?" chirped Alice from Jasper's arms. They'd come up for air from their welcome home kiss.

"He's … um … trying to remove old gum from his leather jacket," I whispered so he wouldn't hear. "I don't think it's going well."

"Ah," said Esme as she went to the freezer for the makings of another drink.

"Did he go ballistic?" snickered Rosalie as she turned on her stool to wrap her arms around Emmett who'd entered the kitchen with his nose in the air, sniffing out the smell of cooking food.

"I thought I might have had to call 911 because he almost hyperventilated," I shared. Everyone laughed.

"FUCK. YOU. ALL!" yelled Edward from the laundry, before appearing in the doorway between the adjoining rooms. He blinked when he saw Esme. "Not you, Mom," he retracted hurriedly."

"Thank you, Dear and don't swear," she reproved as she backed away from the freezer with the vodka bottle, a chilled glass and a piece of frozen lime caught between her teeth. She blinked at Edward and her mouth fell open in utter astonishment.

"Good Lord, Edward. What on earth are you wearing?" she asked him.

Edward was dressed in one of Esme's pinafore aprons decorated with dark red cherries, pink rubber gloves up to his elbows and a floral plastic shower cap over his head. He held the offending leather jacket in one hand and a handful of gray and brown tinged ice-cubes in the other. His dark blue boxer shorts peeked out from under the hem of the apron but otherwise he was naked.

I bit my lip and tried not to laugh. The rest of the Cullen's weren't so kind.

"FUCK. YOU. ALL!" snarled Edward, "Again, not you Mother," his voiced softened as he stomped over to the sink to fling in the ice cubes and strip off the gloves.

I'd seen him earlier of course. He'd stopped briefly to glare at me as he flung his jacket on the island counter and opened the fridge/freezer for ice-cubes and soda water. He didn't say a word to me; he just lifted his chin and strode into the laundry leaving me with a birds-eye view of his shapely rear end and powerful thighs covered in soft bronze hair. The muscles in his back and shoulders rippled as he moved. He wasn't as built as Emmett, but there was nothing wrong and absolutely everything right with that boys body. Yum!

Edward hit the foot pedal on the bin and shoved the leather jacket on top of the vegetable peelings before letting the lid close with a thump. Apparently, Edward had no intentions of wearing the offending jacket again. What a waste! It must be nice to have so much money that you can throw away a thousand dollar piece of clothing because of a little gum and a water stain. Before any one could say anything else to him, he turned on his heel and stalked from the room.

Carlisle entered the kitchen a few seconds later and laid his briefcase on the kitchen table. He kissed Esme who was still standing in shock with the bottle of vodka clutched in her hand.

"Why is Edward dressed like an insane washer woman who escaped from the asylum?"

The entire room erupted into raucous peels of laughter again.

"FUCK. YOU. ALL!" screamed Edward from the third floor landing. "Again, not you, Mother," he clarified, before his bedroom door closed with a deafening slam.

"I think I'll go upstairs and have a bubble bath," declared Esme as she poured herself the second drink. "What time's dinner?"

"About seven."

"I'll be here," she said as she left the room with her drink in one hand and her shoes swinging from the other.

Carlisle cocked a questioning brow to anyone in the room who cared to explain.

I bit my lip and stuttered out, "Um … g..gum on his ja … jacket. My houses fa … fault. I...it wo ...won't come out."

"Why are you stuttering, sweetheart? It's not your fault."

"Jus …. just nerves, I gue … guess, Carlisle. Ed …. Edward was pre … pretty pissed off!"

"Don't worry about it, Bella. You'll get used to Edward's ways soon enough. He's … complex."

"Yeah, right," hissed Rosalie, "we all have to tip-toe around Edward because he has issues," she said signing quote marks around the word 'issues' as she said it.

"Rosalie," cautioned Carlisle. "You've all had your own issues to overcome. Edward's are just a little more difficult for him to resolve."

"Yeah, sorry," she said shamefaced.

Carlisle poured himself a scotch and water from the wet bar in the corner and said he was joining his wife.

"Eww, Dad. TMI," said Emmett, rubbing at his ears as though they hurt.

Carlisle grinned cheekily and left the room. The rest of the kids sauntered into the den to watch television and left me to myself to finish cooking dinner which was more than okay with me. I felt a bit tired and my shoulder ached. I could also feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind my left eye, an unfortunate reminder of my most recent and thus far, most serious head injury.

I turned off the heat under the gravy that was more than ready and checked the roasting beef and vegetables. The popover batter was resting on the counter by the stove and I would pour them into molds and bake them in the oven when I removed the beef to rest. The pie I'd made was keeping warm in the warming oven.

It was while I was wiping down the kitchen counter that I noticed the jacket sticking out of the kitchen bin. I walked over and looked down at it for a long minute, chewing on my lip in indecision.

I finally pulled it out, folded it up and placed it in the laundry to take care of later. I decided to set the dining room table and then rest for an hour when I felt my feet slide out from under me. My left knee twisted sending lightening rods of pain shooting up my leg and into my spine. I banged against the corner of the island and I think I might have passed out from the intense pain for a few seconds. When I came to, my left leg was bent beneath me and I was flat on my back in a small puddle of mushy water. There was a defrosted piece of squished lime under my hand.

FUCK. MY. LIFE!

My knee was throbbing and I panted shallowly through the pain until I felt able to scoot back on my hands and roll to my right side using a drawer handle and the counter top to pull myself up. It never once occurred to me to call out for help. I stood on one leg and held on to the counter top waiting for the pain to subside enough for me to get some ice for my knee.

When I felt stable enough to hobble to the freezer, I pulled it open and removed the first frozen item in a bag that I could find – a packet of peas. It was the only green frozen vegetable in the kitchen and there were another six packets on the shelf. I wondered bizarrely whether Esme had gotten them on sale or whether the Cullen's only ate peas?

After hobbling to the kitchen table, I eased myself onto a chair and covered my knee with the bag of frozen peas. I felt instant relief as the coldness seeped into the heat of my swelling joint. After about twenty minutes, Alice came into the kitchen for another drink to find me resting at the table with my head on folded arms and the bag of peas on my leg.

"Bella," she asked quietly and touched my shoulder. I startled and lifted my head from my folded arms. "Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well you're really pale and you've got a packet of peas on your knee. Is it bothering you?"

"Oh, yeah. Um, I must have used it too much today. It's a bit achy but it'll be fine once I've rested it." I really didn't want Esme to know that I slipped on the piece of lime she dropped when she saw Edward in his manic dry-cleaning attire.

Alice stared at me skeptically.

"Really, Alice, it's fine. The doctors and my physical therapist told me, I'd have residual pain for awhile until my leg healed completely. I'm used to it, really," I tried to reassure her.

"Well okay, Bella. If you say so, but you should stay off your feet for the rest of the night."

"I will."

"Alice, do you think you could set the dining room table for me?"

"Sure, Bella. Let me just take some cold drinks into the boys first. Rose has gone upstairs to have a shower."

Alice skipped over to the fridge to get two cokes. She paused for a few seconds gazing at the floor. Her dark spiky hair disappear briefly as she bent down and then I heard the bin lid open and close. Shit, had she seen the squished lime quarter?

"I'll be back in just a minute," she trilled as she ran lightly from the room.

Alice came back after a couple of minutes, and I wondered what had kept her so long. I hoped she hadn't said anything about my knee. Alice reached into cupboards and drawers for plates, glasses and silverware and placed them all on the island bench. She leaned against it, seemingly lost in thought.

"You know, Bella, you really should tell Carlisle about your knee. I know that you slipped on the lime wedge and hurt it somehow, and I won't say anything to Esme, but it might be really damaged. You probably should have it X-Rayed and get an anti-inflammatory drug of some sort."

"It'll be fine, Alice. I just need to rest it and keep it iced for a while. Could you hand me another packet of frozen peas, this one's thawed?"

Alice brought me the peas and sat down at the table. She took one of my cold hands in her warm ones and stroked the back of it gently. She took a deep breath as though to fortify herself and said, "Bella, if you don't tell Carlisle yourself … then I will."

Treacherous bitch! I pulled my hand from hers and curled it against my waist.

"I told you its fine, Alice," I hissed in exasperation.

"It's not fine and you know it. You're really _really _pale, you keep gulping like you're trying not to vomit and you've broken out in a cold sweat."

I swiped my hand across my forehead to remove the perspiration and felt some stray drops seep into the corners of my eyes. The salt made my eyes sting and I started to sob quietly, both in reaction to the sting of sweat and delayed reaction to the pain.

"Alice, I don't want to be a bother and I don't want Esme to blame herself either. It was an accident and I wasn't looking where I was going. You should know, that injuries are not a new phenomena for me. My middle name is Klutz, not Marie."

Alice giggled and wiped at my face with a clean facial tissue she pulled from her jeans pocket.

"Nevertheless, telling Carlisle is the right thing to do and the sensible thing to do. He is a doctor you know. He treats these types of injuries all of the time especially during football and baseball season. He's the team doctor, so he's at all of the home games. I can't tell you the number of knee, ankle, elbow and shoulder injuries my Dad's treated during the five years we've lived in Forks and that's not including the people who come to the hospital with non-sporting injuries."

I sniffed and took the second facial tissue offered to me by Alice to wipe my eyes. My shoulders slumped and I gave in.

"Alright, Alice. I'll tell him, but after dinner, okay. I don't want dinner to be spoiled."

Alice nodded hesitantly in agreement.

"Can you pass me Edward's jacket; I left it in the laundry. I'll also need some ice and a plastic bag, a clean white rag, some detergent diluted with a little water and some leather cleaner. Can you get me those things?"

"Sure I can. You rest right here and I'll be right back."

Alice came back with the requested cleaning supplies and Edward's jacket then went to set the dining room table. I pressed the bagged ice against the gum Edward had spread rather than remove, so that I could freeze it and then pick most of it off with my fingernails. Once I'd removed all but the most stubborn adhesion's, I collected them up by rubbing the picked-off lump of gum over the leather like removing Blu-Tak from a wall.

Alice flitted back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room while I inspected the rest of the jacket for more of the dreaded gum. She came back into the kitchen as I was rubbing the gum residue with some diluted detergent and a soft white rag. I finished it off with some leather cleaner and hey presto, it was as good as new and the water marks were barely noticeable.

"Is there a coat hanger in the laundry, Alice?"

"I'll check," she said leaving her station behind the kitchen island. She came back quickly with a padded hanger in her hand.

"Here," she said holding out her hand for the jacket, "let me."

I handed her the jacket and while she went to hang the jacket in the laundry, I tried to stand up to check on the roast. My knee gave out and I groaned.

"What are you doing?" screeched, Alice.

"I need to move around, otherwise it will get stiff; and I need to check on dinner."

"Oh no you don't! You sit right there and you can tell me what I need to do to finish dinner. Are we clear?" she humphed at me.

"Yes," I whimpered. Alice could be scary for being such a small little thing.

I was kind of relieved actually that Alice insisted I remained where I was. I really didn't feel well at all and my head was pounding. I probably should take something for it and the pain in my knee but I was afraid to because I didn't know what other drugs Carlisle might want to give to me later on. I rubbed at my temples as Alice cleared away the cleaning supplies I'd used and then positioned herself in the kitchen behind the island.

"Okay, I'm ready," she declared with a deep breath.

I chuckled as Alice presented herself covered with another one of Esme's pinafore aprons and two enormous oven gloves protecting her hands. Alice proved herself most proficient in taking instructions and managed to remove the beef and vegetables from the oven without burning herself, and slide in the popovers after pouring a third of the batter all over the floor. Once the floor was cleaned, the gravy poured, the peas scooped into a bowl and the beef and vegetables placed on two large platters, the popovers were ready to come out of the oven.

"Just lift them out with the edge of a spoon or a butter knife, Alice and place them on the platter by the beef. Will you help me into the dining room before everyone else comes in for dinner?"

"Sure, Bella. How's the knee?" she asked as she helped me to my feet and lifted my arm over her shoulder to shuffle me into the dining room.

"Hmm, it's pretty sore, actually. I'm kinda glad you're making me tell your Dad."

She smirked. Bitch! She was more like Edward than I first realized. Another Cullen that liked to be proven right.

Alice helped me to my seat and went back into the kitchen for the food. Once it was on the table, she poked her head out of the dining room into the cavernous foyer and yelled, "Dinners ready. Come and get it!"

Thunderous pounding could be heard coming down the limestone tiled hallway from the den, as both Emmett and Jasper raced to get to the dining room first. Rosalie swanned in looking like a movie star and Carlisle and Esme joined us a minute later, holding hands and wearing smiles from ear to ear. Someone or two had gotten lucky. They were sweet in their affection for each other and I hoped that my marriage would one day be as great as theirs appeared to be. Everyone took their seats and started to serve themselves, when Esme commented on Edward's absence.

"Has anyone seen, Edward?"

"Not since earlier," mumbled Emmett as he piled food onto his plate in between shoveling steaming roast potatoes into his mouth. He didn't even look up to address his mother.

"Emmett! Put the platter down and some of that food back. There are seven other people eating at this table and our newest family member should be served first, particularly as she cooked it." Esme smiled at me and then returned to glaring at her eldest son.

Emmett looked at his mother with a wretched expression on his face and tried to stare his mother down.

Esme won.

Emmett put the platter down with a plonk and scraped half the food on his plate onto Edward's beside him. He snickered. He was such a guy!

I had witnessed enough of Edward's OCD tendencies today, to know that it would drive him nuts if he knew that the food on his plate had been on Emmett's plate first.

Esme growled. Emmett wiped the smirk of his face and placed his hands in his lap.

Esme looked down the table to address Carlisle who was carving the beef. "Carlisle, darling, will you please go upstairs and get Edward? He will be eating dinner with us this evening whether he likes it or not!"

Carlisle glanced at Esme and nodded, then scowled at the disappearance of Esme's happy face. He looked around the table at his children; his gaze narrowing and zeroing in on Emmett who cringed and shrank back into his seat if that was even possible.

"What? I didn't do anything."

Carlisle's mouth tightened but he pushed himself up from the table and went to get Edward from his room on the third floor, flicking the back of his hand at Emmett's head as he strode past him.

"You may all serve yourselves while we wait for your father and Edward. Bella, please take a portion before everyone else. Emmett you may _not_ take anymore of the food until every single family member has been served. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma," he said sulkily. Rosalie smirked at him.

I took a small portion of food, because as appetizing as it looked and smelled, I was now afraid that I wouldn't be able to keep any of it down. I felt nauseated from the headache and the pain in my knee and I had broken out in another cold sweat. I surreptitiously wiped my brow with my sleeve and prayed that none of them noticed. I figured, I'd pass it off as being hot from cooking dinner if anyone said anything.

Carlisle came back with a scowling Edward after about five minutes and he flung himself into the seat opposite me and to the right of Esme. He stared at the food on his plate but he didn't say a word; he simply glared at Emmett accusingly. I'm sure he could feel me sneaking peeks at him but he refused to look at me. I, however, could feel Alice's bright blue eyes boring into me as though she knew I wasn't going to make it all the way through dinner before collapsing.

She opened her mouth to address Carlisle, when I interrupted her.

"Let's eat everyone, before the food gets cold."

"Yeah!" said Emmett as he reached over and forked a huge piece of rib beef still attached to the bone from the joint his father was carving. Esme groaned in embarrassment and closed her eyes. I smiled at Emmett; he was like a little kid who had never eaten a meal before. He doused his entire plate in gravy and didn't speak for the next ten minutes other than to moan appreciatively.

The rest of the family dug in as well and it was the quietest dinner conversation I'd every witnessed. I felt kinda proud that it was my cooking that had done it. I gave myself a metaphorical pat on the back and a high-five.

_'I was a shit-hot cook!'_

Even Edward ate heartily, apparently choosing not to dwell on how food came to be on his plate which he'd not served himself. Not one syllable was uttered until every morsel was eaten. Emmett wiped out the gravy boat with his popover and then he belched, to Esme's utter horror and disgust.

"Bella, that was the best meal I've ever eaten … no offense, Mom. Can you cook every night?" he asked hopefully.

"No she can't," said Esme, "not unless your table manners improve. I can't believe your behavior at my table tonight. I've a good mind to send you to bed like a naughty little boy, without dessert!"

"There's dessert?" he asked eagerly.

"Um, yeah. Apple and blackberry pie with ice-cream," I informed Emmett. Edward looked up sharply and stared at me. I knew it was his favorite because it was written on the recipe card I'd found when was looking for something inspirational to make. It was an olive branch of sorts. I hoped that he accepted it. His mouth curved up in a small smile. It seemed that he would.

Alice stood up from the table and began clearing plates and serving bowls. I made a move to stand up but she told me to stay where I was; that Rosalie would help her. The girls finished clearing and came back with a tub of vanilla ice-cream and the warm pie which Esme cut into eight equal pieces. I picked at mine and offered the majority of it to Edward who had almost inhaled his own portion. Surprisingly, he accepted it with a tentative smile, much to Emmett's dismay.

"That was truly excellent, Bella," complimented Carlisle. "I don't know when I've eaten a finer home cooked meal. I'm sorry, Darling," he cooed at Esme.

"It's okay, Carlisle. I know I'm not the best cook around, but I do try. I wouldn't mind if Bella wants to cook again," she invited with a smile on her lovely face. "Emmett, Edward, Jasper, you three boys can clean the kitchen and stack the dishwasher. The girls have done their share. Off you go and take these dessert bowls with you."

"Bella, don't you have something to confess to Carlisle?" Alice ratted me out.

Bitch! Edward paused at the door to the kitchen.

Carlisle gave me his full attention. "What is it, Bella?"

"Um … Ah, well you see …" Oh hell! I decided to come clean in full sweep and get it over with. "I kinda slipped earlier this evening and I fell over and hurt my knee. I also have a really bad headache but I didn't want to take anything for it because Alice made me promise to tell you after dinner … about my knee I mean, and I didn't know what you might give me so I didn't take anything and I don't feel very well." I got it all out in one long breath. I thought I might pass out from lack of oxygen.

Esme looked horrified that I had sat all through dinner without saying anything, but Carlisle stood up, already in doctor mode and asked Edward who was still loitering by the door to carry me into his office. Edward dropped the bowls he carried onto the table and came around to pull out my chair and scoop me up. My leg hurt with the movement, but his arms were really strong and I felt warm and safe in his embrace. He smelled really good as well and I sniffed at this neck. I couldn't help myself. Edward smiled and held me a little closer.

"Put her on the bed, Edward."

Carlisle pulled over a rolling stool to sit on and began to cut my jeans leg away. I thought about objecting because I didn't have that many clothes, but I thought better of it when I looked at Edward's furious face. I didn't understand why he was so angry.

"When exactly did you injure yourself, Bella?" asked Carlisle who was was pressing gently around my swollen red knee. I flinched and bit my lip to stop myself from crying out.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I know it hurts."

"It's okay," I said wiping a tear from my face. "I fell over not long after you went upstairs."

Carlisle looked up at me, his mouth tight. "That was over three hours ago."

"Yes," I agreed, biting my lip.

"Alice knew," hissed Edward.

I panicked. "Um, yeah, she figured it out eventually, but I made her promise not to say anything until after dinner and she agreed as long as I told Carlisle as soon as we'd finished eating."

Edward's jaw clenched and I could see the muscles spasm beside his mouth.

"I don't think you've done any permanent damage, Bella. I think you've just twisted it. But I'll want to X-Ray it tomorrow to make sure. For now, I want you to take two Ibuprofen Plus and another two in six hours or when you wake up, whichever is first. They contain a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug as well as codeine. It will help minimize the swelling and relieve some of the pain. Edward, can you get one of the cold-packs out of the freezer, please?"

Edward went to do Carlisle's bidding and came back as his father finished wrapping my knee in an Ace bandage.

"How's your headache?"

"Still there."

"Do you want something else for it?"

"Will the Ibuprofen Plus work?"

"It might. Where's the pain centered?"

"Behind my left eye."

"Any vision distortion, nausea, dizziness?"

"A little nausea but no dizziness and my vision is okay."

"Alright, it sounds more like a bad headache than a migraine, so the Ibuprofen Plus will probably work. I'll have Esme bring you some peppermint tea for the nausea; she swears by it. I'll also check on you during the night. If you need anything before that, you call out to Edward. He's a light sleeper."

"Okay. Thank you, Doctor Cullen."

"Hey, none of that. It's Carlisle. Edward you can take her upstairs, but take the elevator; it will be easier on her leg."

"Okay. Night Dad."

"Goodnight, Son, Bella."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: I am from Australia, so please be understanding if I use spelling variations or words/descriptions/phrases that may not be familiar to North American readers. I am using the US dictionary and spell check but sometimes I might slip up.

Chapter 3 – Bed Time Stories

Edward carried me through the kitchen to the elevator which he told me was hidden in the laundry room behind two decorative doors. Who knew! Jasper and Emmett were still cleaning up the remnants of dinner and stacking the dishwasher. Emmett paused momentarily from gnawing beef off the leftover rib bones to ask me how I was. Esme was brewing a pot of peppermint tea and setting up a tray with a teacup and saucer and a plate of crackers. I wondered if she was telepathic because Carlisle hadn't yet returned from his office to ask her to make it. I wrinkled my brow trying to work it out, but my headache made it too difficult to think.

"Intercom," Jasper told me. Maybe he was telepathic too? I must have said it out loud because he replied.

"Nah, Little Darlin', this house is just so big, we'd all holler down the stairwell like Edward does if we didn't have another communication method."

Edward bared his teeth at Jasper and scowled at Emmett in disgust as he continued to strip every bit of meat from the beef bones like a rapacious carnivore. Edward shuddered. I don't know if it was because of Emmett's eating habits or because the bones were leftovers from everyone's dinner plate. I'm pretty sure it was because they were leftovers.

Esme came over to where Edward stood holding me in his arms and stroked my head. It felt nice and I leaned in to her hand. She smiled at me but worry, guilt and regret shone from her eyes. I sighed and wondered if Alice had told her. Esme was one of the nicest people I'd ever met and I really _really_ didn't want her to worry over me or blame herself. It's not her fault I'm clumsy.

"How are you feeling, Sweetheart?"

"I'm fine, Esme. Carlisle wants to X-Ray my knee tomorrow but he thinks I've just twisted it. I'll be as good as new in a day or so," I hoped and crossed my fingers.

Edward grimaced in disbelief and shook his head at Esme. He repositioned me in his arms so I was resting higher against his chest. I could feel his heart thumping away against my side. Why was he being so nice to me? I thought he hated me. I forgot myself for a minute and let the fingers of my hand around his neck finger the soft hair at his nape. Edward stiffened momentarily before he relaxed, but he looked at me oddly like he couldn't figure me out.

"I'm taking Bella up to her room, Mom. I'll come down for the tea tray when I get her settled. And, Emmett, stop gnawing on those fucking bones, you're like a bloody animal."

"Screw you, Bro. You're just jealous that I'm not riddled with phobias like you are."

Esme reached out and halted the upwards movement of Emmett's fist gripping yet another bone, by taking hold of his wrist in a surprisingly firm grasp. She gritted her teeth and bid me goodnight. I could hear Emmett whining as Esme threw the rest of the bones in the garbage. Edward sniggered in revenge.

We stopped in front of two doors in the laundry and Edward pressed a red call button on the wall. The doors slid open to reveal a small elevator big enough for three small adults or two large ones. We stepped in and Edward pressed the button for the third floor. I was close enough to him to notice the five o'clock beard shadowing his jaw. The dark hair made the lips of his well shaped mouth look redder in his pale face. He noticed me staring at him and I blushed furiously, but he didn't say anything. His eyes were a startling emerald green, even darker than Esme's were, surrounded by thick dark lashes below a prominent but well groomed brow line.

Edward was settling me on my bed in the room opposite his on the third floor before I even realized we'd left the elevator. He placed a pillow under my knee and two more behind me on the bed so I could sit up. He stepped back from the bed and shoved his hands into his front pockets rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Um … do you need help getting undressed … or, you know stuff?" he whispered awkwardly indicating the ensuite bathroom door with a nod of his head.

"Oh! Oh, yeah." I didn't relish the thought of sleeping in my torn jeans, converse sneakers and my bra.

"Okay. Well … um … I'll send Alice up to help you and I'll come back with your tea. Is ten enough?"

"Ten what?"

"Minutes. I'll come back in ten minutes, if you think that's enough time."

"Oh, sure. Ten minutes is fine."

Edward turned to leave the room, his hands still fisted in his pockets.

"Hey, Edward?"

"Yeah?" he said without turning around.

"Thanks."

He nodded and left the room. I could hear his feet pounding on the stairs as he escaped downstairs. I swallowed two of the pain pills with a sip of water from the bottle by my bed and allowed myself to rest against the pillows while I waited for Alice.

I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes, Alice was leaning over me unbuttoning my jeans. She already had my shirt unbuttoned and had removed my shoes and socks. I tried to focus my blurry vision on her small figure but she seemed to be moving too fast for my eyes to capture her image.

"Lift your hips up, Bella."

I complied and Alice stripped the jeans from me and threw them towards the armchair in the corner by the window. I figured I'd turn them into cutoff shorts so I could get a bit more wear out of them.

"Lean forward, Bella so I can remove your shirt."

Alice removed my shirt and bra with the efficiency of a stylist in a runway show. I covered my breasts with one hand and snaked the other under the pillows next to me for my short summer pajamas. For some reason, Alice wasn't speaking to me more than was necessary and she wasn't looking at me either. Her subdued manner wasn't in Alice's nature at all; something was wrong.

"Alice, what's wrong?" I whispered to her.

She responded by snatching the Pj's from my hand and sliding the bottoms over my feet and up my legs to settle around my waist. She pulled the soft poly-cotton top over my head before I had a chance to ask her again.

"Alice!" I said, grabbing holding of her wrist. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Bella. Do you need to use the bathroom?"

I nodded and she helped me off the bed and shuffled me toward the bathroom.

"Will you be okay in there on your own?"

I nodded.

"Okay. Give a yell when you're done and I'll help you back into bed."

Alice pulled the door shut but not before I spotted a single tear leaking from each of her bright blue eyes. I was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was wrong. I took care of my human needs, then stood on my good leg with a hand braced against the basin so I could brush my teeth and wash my face and hands. I couldn't manage to stand on one foot to braid my hair for the night, so I snapped the hair tie off my wrist and knocked on the door to let Alice know I was ready. The door was opened by a sniffling Alice who shuffled me back into bed without looking at me.

"Alice!" I yelled at her when she turned to leave. "You're not leaving," I ordered, "not until you tell me right now what's wrong."

Alice sat beside me on the bed with her head bowed. She continued to sniffle and I handed her a facial tissue from the box by the bed, returning the favor from earlier. We sat quietly for what felt like forever; me waiting and Alice sniffling.

"I got into trouble for not telling anyone that you hurt yourself," she eventually confessed in a small voice.

"Oh, Alice. But why? I was the one who hurt myself and didn't tell anyone for three hours. I technically didn't even tell you; you guessed."

"It doesn't matter, Bella. Mom and Dad said I should have told them immediately I suspected something was wrong. You see, we have a rule in this family that we don't keep secrets especially when a family member's health or safety is at stake. I broke the rules. Edward was really _really_ pissed at me too."

Edward was. Why? I'd think about that later.

"Alice, I'll explain it all to them in the morning, I promise. You won't be blamed for my stupidity, I'll make sure of it."

"No, Bella. They're right. I have to take my punishment without complaint."

I wondered what kind of punishment was meted out in the Cullen household. I didn't think it would be physical because Esme and Carlisle didn't seem to be those types of parents, but I didn't know them that well and, well you just never knew what went on behind closed doors. I had a friend at school, Bree, back in Jacksonville who always came to school with bruises. She tried to pass them off as clumsiness, but I knew the truth. I was the queen of clumsiness and you didn't get the types of injuries she often had from falling over or running into things. She didn't come to school at the start of the sophomore year and I found out later, that she'd committed suicide. Her Dad had been beating her up on a pretty regular basis and I suppose she just got tired of it. She escaped the only way she knew how. I always felt guilty for not saying something to the school counselor before it was too late.

I took a deep breath. "Um, what is your punishment?"

Alice started to sob and buried her head between my shoulder and my neck. I patted her back awkwardly. She hiccoughed and lifted her head to tell me her punishment. I braced myself.

"I …I ... have to give back my credit card for the summer," she sobbed and buried her face in the quilt on my bed. I let loose a short laugh of relief but Alice stiffened thinking I was making fun of her.

"Alice. Alice, Honey, please don't cry. It's not so bad. It's only a credit card. It could have been worse."

"What's worse than spending the next three months without a credit card?" she wailed.

I didn't know what to say or do to console her but then the pain killers kicked in and I had an epiphany.

"Alice, did Jasper and Emmett tell you about my house?"

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Yes, they said it needed a lot of cleaning and painting to make it habitable."

"Hmm, yes. Did they also ask you to help with the project."

Alice blinked. "You want me to clean and paint?"

Yep, definitely Edward's sister.

"No, well, yes, if you want to that is, but I was thinking more about you helping me shop for furniture, fabrics and accessories, and I think I probably could do with a few new clothes as well," I added for good measure.

Alice brightened immediately. Her eyes glazed over as she started making plans in her head for how to spend my money since she couldn't spend her parents.

"Alice. Alice!" I called snapping my fingers in front of her face to break her trance. "There's a budget that I can't go over. You understand what a budget is don't you?"

She nodded her head vigorously. I didn't believe her for a minute.

"If you can stick to my budget and include me in the decisions, then I'd like for you to..." I paused trying to come up with the right description, "project manage the restoration of my house." I hoped I wasn't making a huge mistake.

Alice clapped her hands and squealed almost shattering my eardrums. "Thank you, thank you, Bella," gushed Alice, "you won't regret it, I promise you."

I smiled wanly. Why didn't I believe her? Edward knocked on the door and entered the room carrying a tea tray and another cold pack for my knee. Alice scooted off the bed and danced over to him, her earlier good humor returned. She kissed Edward on the cheek, leaving behind a bright red lipstick imprint of her lips.

"What's got her so happy all of sudden?" asked Edward as he placed the standing breakfast tray over my legs.

"Oh, she's going to project manage all of us when we fix up my house," I replied as I poured myself a cup of steaming peppermint tea.

Edward looked at me with an expression of disbelief. "Are you nuts? Do you _know _what you've condemned us all to?"

I shrugged. It couldn't be that bad, could it? Edward fisted his bronze hair, sending his perfectly, deliberately messy coiffure into disarray. He leaned his fists on the side of my bed and glared at me with stormy black eyes. I sank back into the pillows in alarm. What happened to the green ones?

"She's a bloody tyrant," he hissed. "World leaders could take lessons from her! We, none of us," he waved his hand around erratically to indicate the entire house, "will get not one moment to ourselves or one minutes peace until _your _fucking house is done, done, DONE!"

I wanted to burst into tears but then I straightened my backbone and gritted my teeth.

It seemed the olive branch was dead.

Edward paced around my room, pulling at his hair, scowling, grimacing and mumbling under his breath. Why was he always so angry? I wondered for a minute if he was taking medication. I thought I might suggest it to Carlisle at breakfast.

"I release you."

"What?"

"I said I release you, from your promise to Emmett to help me with my house."

He barked a laugh and rolled his eyes. "You can't. I made the promise to Emmett, not you."

"Well, I'll talk to him tomorrow, Edward and have him retract it. I don't want you doing anything for me that you don't want to do. I'm not your responsibility and I don't want help that is not freely given."

Silence, and clenched fists.

"You know, your mood swings are giving me whiplash. I mean, one minute you're hating on me and swearing at me, and then the next minute you're smiling at me because I gave you my pie and ... and you're helping me and looking and acting all concerned about me."

More silence.

"Which one is it, Edward?" I asked him quietly after a while.

He released his clenched hands and flexed his fingers; his rapid breathing calmed.

"It's not you. I don't hate you. I … I'm just a fucked up asshole who finds it hard to relate to people," he told the wall.

"You know, if you don't want me for a friend, that's okay. I won't be offended and I won't hold it against you."

"Another friend might be nice," he whispered as he turned around.

I smiled at him.

He look startled for a moment before his expression smoothed out. I studied him quizzically until he broke our gaze and paced over to the TV.

"Do you want the TV on, or something?"

Or something.

"No not the TV. Some music might be nice though, but nothing too … heavy."

"I'll be right back", he said striding from my room. He was back in a blink with his iPod which he fiddled with for a second before loading it into the docking station. Soft piano music sounded from the twin speakers. I settled back against the pillows, closed my eyes and relaxed, my body weary but suddenly, not sleepy at all.

"Goodnight, Bella," whispered Edward.

My eyes flew open in alarm. I didn't want him to leave.

"Stay."

"What?"

"Stay and talk to me until I fall asleep."

He smiled. "You know, Bella, you've got a better chance of achieving sleep if we're _not_ talking," he pointed out.

I poked my tongue out at him.

"I know, but I'm not sleepy right now. My knee hurts and talking will distract me."

"What about your headache?"

"Gone."

He reluctantly walked over to the bed and sat on the opposite side diagonally across from me.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Tell me about your family."

"Bed time stories?" he asked with a smile.

"If you like."

"What do you want to know?"

"How come Emmett and Alice don't look any thing like you, Esme or Carlisle?"

"You're very observant."

"It wasn't hard. It's science."

Edward cocked a brow at me in query. He was going to make me explain it.

"Carlisle has blonde hair and blue eyes. Esme has caramel brown hair and green eyes. You have your mother's coloring and eye color and your Dad's features. Emmett has brown eyes and black hair and Alice has blue eyes and black hair. Other than Alice's blue eyes, neither of them fit."

"You noticed. Most people don't," he confirmed.

I shrugged and waited for him to continue.

He sighed. "It's easy. Emmett and Alice are adopted and I'm Mom and Dad's natural son. Esme and Carlisle had been married for five years and they'd been trying to have a baby for three. When nothing happened and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with either of them, they decided to adopt."

I nodded in understanding. I thought as much, about the adoption I mean, not the 'not being able to get pregnant part'.

"Emmett came to them when he was six months old before I was even a thought. He'd been abandoned in a garbage dumpster at the Chicago hospital Dad worked in. Dad was the attending physician on-call and because Child Welfare was overwhelmed at the time, they allowed Mom and Dad to foster Emmett until a more permanent arrangement could be found."

"Oh my God. A garbage dumpster! How could anyone with any feelings at all, abandon a helpless baby in a garbage dumpster?"

"The world isn't all sweetness and nice, Bella. Shit like that happens a lot more often than you might think. Bad things happen to good people," he whispered quietly.

He looked so sad, I felt the need to offer him comfort and I took hold of his large hand enclosing it tightly within my own. I felt a sudden zap like electricity. My fingers tingled and I tightened my grip on Edward's hand. His fingers flexed in my hold, whether from the same zap or because I was touching him, I didn't know, but I had no intentions of letting him go.

Selfishly, I still wanted to know the rest of Emmett's story but I didn't want Edward to be sad, so I picked a topic I thought might be easy for him to answer.

"How did he get the name, Emmett? It's kind of old-fashioned."

Edward chuckled. "From Mom. She named him after her grandfather, because she said Emmett as a baby had the temperament of a grizzly bear and he reminded her a lot of her granddad. Apparently, her Grandpa Emmett used to fight grizzlies in a circus before he met my great-grandmother and she put a stop to it."

I laughed. The story seemed improbable but it suited Emmett. I was ready to accept Edward's explanation when I noticed his shoulders shaking with laughter. He'd been telling tales!

"You rat!" I said slapping Edward's forearm playfully.

"Be serious, Edward. How did Emmett get his name?"

"How do you know I'm not telling you the truth?"

"Really, Edward. Fighting grizzlies in a circus. How gullible do you think I am?"

"Pretty gullible. I had you believing it until you noticed me laughing."

I showed him my best 'I'm not fooling around' face and he relented.

"Okay, okay. The part about being named after my great-grandfather is correct. The grizzly part, is a furphy."

"Hmm. So, when did you come along?"

His jaw clenched. "About ten months after Emmett came to live with Mom and Dad," he said quietly.

"So having an infant in the house distracted your Mom from worrying about not getting pregnant and she did. Get pregnant, I mean?"

He swallowed. "Yes."

"And who are you named after?"

"Dad's father."

I snuggled down into the quilt and let go of Edward's hand to wrap my arms around my body. It was getting a little chilly.

"C'mon, let's get you under the covers," Edward said lifting the standing tray away from my legs. He pulled the covers down and I lifted my hips out of the way so he could drag them all the way to the foot of the bed and then back up over me. He tucked the sheets and blankets around my shoulders but I slipped my arms out and folded them over my body. I yawned and patted the bed beside me, inviting Edward to lay down while we talked.

"I should let you sleep now."

"No, please. Tell me about Alice. What's her story?"

Edward settled onto the bed beside me and I rolled my head to the side so I could look at his face while we talked.

"Hmm, Alice. What can I tell you about Alice?" he smiled lovingly.

"Alice is a tyrant, I already told you that. But she's got the biggest heart of anybody I know and she'd give you the shirt off her back; or rather buy you a new one. She thinks the best of everyone and she's rarely got a really harsh word to say about anyone unless you prove yourself unworthy in her eyes."

"How did she become a Cullen?" I whispered.

"When Alice was about four years old, she was found living in an alleyway in a cardboard box. She was wearing a bracelet with the words 'Alice Brandon' engraved on it and a date – the authorities assumed it was her date of birth. She wouldn't speak and her world didn't exist outside of that alleyway and the box. Child Welfare never found any records of any girl being born with the name 'Alice' or 'Brandon' on the date found on her bracelet."

"Oh," I whispered. "That's so sad."

"Yeah, it is. The authorities searched, but there were no stolen children that fit her profile and they came to the conclusion that her birth was never registered. She just didn't exist, until Mom and Dad, that is."

"They adopted her?"

"Yes. But first she was placed with us as as a foster child. I was only about four years old myself at the time. Emmett was five and Mom was trying to build her design and decorating business in Chicago. We kids were all hard work; but Mom loved us all. She said she's never had any regrets."

"Yeah, I think I can tell that about your Mom. She seems to love being a Mom."

"That she does. She worries about me the most, I think. I'm her problem child," he said with a trace of sheepishness mixed with shame.

I yawned again and I could feel my eyes drifting shut. I really wanted to question Edward about his last statement and what he'd said before about 'bad things happening to good people'.

"Time for sleep," commanded Edward. "It's late and you can hardly keep your eyes open."

"Okaaay," I yawned. "But, tell me quick about Jasper and Rosalie."

Edward chuckled at my persistence. "Another time, Bella. You're dead on your feet. Can I get you anything before I go?"

"No, s'okay," I slurred as I felt myself drift off into a healing sleep, soothed by the sound of piano music playing on Edward's iPod.

I never heard the quiet snick of the door closing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: I'm trying to build more background history with this chapter, hence there is not a lot of new stuff happening but that should change with chapter 5. Hit review and let me know how you think I'm going.

Chapter 4 – Carlisle's Office

I opened my eyes and stretched like a cat. The sun was shining brightly through my bedroom window announcing a lovely summer day; something of a miracle for Forks, Washington where it existed under a near-constant cover of cloud … and rain. Can't forget the rain! I hated the rain, I really did. I found it strangely ironic that I was back living where it rained more than any other place in the entire USA.

I was an unapologetic sun worshiper, quickly converted to the ways of the Sun Goddess almost immediately after I went to live with Mom in Phoenix, Arizona. The year I turned eleven years old, I'd gone to Phoenix to spend Christmas with Mom; I'd alternated Easter and Christmas visits with Mom since she'd left us when I was two years old. Even in December it was blisteringly hot in Phoenix and if not for the holiday decorations strewn all over the sprawling desert city, I would never have known what season it was.

The call that irrevocably changed my life as I knew it, came on New Years Eve when Mom and I were about to count down the last few minutes to midnight with her new husband, Phil Dwyer. Phil was a minor league baseball player except he wasn't very good. He knew it, his coach knew it and Mom knew it but she was happy to support him if that's what he wanted to do. She was totally _in lurve; _her words, not mine. Phil was absolutely ga-ga over Mom which I found just a tiny bit nauseating at the time.

When the call came, it changed everything for all of us. Charlie was dead from a heart attack at thirty-five and I was devastated at the loss of the one man in the world who was my idol and who could do no wrong in my eyes. In that moment, I felt my heart breaking and I knew it would never heal. It did of course because time _really_ does heal all wounds – as cheesy as that sounds – but there remains a hair-line fracture running down the middle of my heart that belongs to my Dad and always will.

After Dad died, Mom was once again a full-time parent after nearly a decade of being mostly child free. Don't get me wrong, Renee loved me and after I went to live with her she became my best friend; but Renee was never truly cut out to be a Mom. I didn't hold it against her; it was just the way she was. I simply got on with it and went about bringing myself up, making sure I would be able to make it in the world when the time came. It just came about a bit sooner than I thought it would. I had one extraordinary parent in Charlie and one fantastic friend in Renee and I felt truly blessed.

When Renee was once again the primary custodial parent, Phil took on the role of surrogate father throwing himself into the job with all of the vigor that he'd given to baseball. I am happy to say that he was a far better husband and father figure than he was a baseball player. I will be forever grateful to him that he never tried to replace Charlie in my heart, but he did step up to the plate and accept the role of step-dad with no regrets and only a few missteps along the way.

We moved to Jacksonville, Florida when I was thirteen because Phil's father died and he needed to go back and pick up the reins of the family business. Phil retired his dreams of baseball glory and went back into full-time construction work instead. Now, Mom and Phil were both gone from my life and I had two more cracks cris-crossing my heart with their names on them.

I lay in bed for a few more moments, gathering my thoughts about the new day ahead and watching tiny dust particles dancing in the brightly illuminated air. I stretched again, yawning away the remains of my sleepiness and then experimentally flexed, bent and rotated my knee.

It had been four days since I twisted my knee and I was happy to report that it felt fantastic!

_'Ahm, well maybe not fantastic … but great, it felt great.'_

_'Or, really good, yep, it was good.'_

_'Shoot, it felt okay, okay!' _

I spent five minutes doing some strengthening exercises because I'd gotten a bit lazy recently and let them slide for the past ten days. My leg still twinged a bit, but no more than it did before my clumsy slide across Esme's kitchen floor on Saturday evening. Carlisle had X-Rayed my knee on Sunday morning confirming his original diagnosis that it was just a mild sprain.

_'Thank you, Lord and Amen!'_

While we were at the hospital, Carlisle insisted on giving me a physical, checking my eyes, ears, heart sounds, pulse and blood-pressure, all of which were excellent and what anyone would expect of a typical fifteen nearly sixteen year old teenage girl.

My height at 5 foot 4 inches wasn't a big surprise as it had been unchanged now for three years. My weight, however was a different matter. I was a little underweight, I knew that. I was still gaining back the weight I'd lost since the accident and I knew I should eat more, but sometimes my appetite was non-existent.

"Hmm," he'd sounded with a hint of disapproval as he marked my chart.

"What?" I asked him, peeking at him with an effected innocent look and biting my lip.

"The little-girl innocent look doesn't work on me, you know?" he smirked. "I am immune to feminine ways and wiles."

_'Oh, really.' _I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

Carlisle laughed-coughed into the fist of his hand.

"Yep!" he said uncannily responding to my unspoken challenge and ignoring my inane attempts at flirtation.

"I have a wife I've been married to for twenty-three years and two teenage daughters. Do you really think they haven't tried every trick in their not unimpressive arsenals?"

"Ah … Ahh."

"Exactly! Don't think for a minute," he chided, wagging his finger at me, "that I don't know when I'm being flirted with; _or_ when I'm being manipulated."

I squirmed in the face of his reprimand but then his mouth stretched into a cheeky smile that softened his eyes. I kinda grinned at him and I felt myself blushing furiously – I couldn't help it. He was _really_ good. He was nothing like Phil; he'd been a complete pushover.

I _was_ going to work on Carlisle about Alice's punishment, but I immediately changed my mind. I'd already wiped-out with Esme when I brought it up with her over breakfast of pancakes with blueberries this morning. Esme was resolute. Alice had broken the rules of the house and her punishment stood. If I pursued Alice's cause with Carlisle after his good natured reproach, it would be disrespectful to both him and Esme.

I sighed inwardly._ 'Really mature, Bella!'_

Carlisle tossed the clipboard holding my chart onto the examination bed beside me before crossing his arms and standing directly in front of me. I could see a weight management lecture in my immediate future. Since flirting didn't work, I switched to avoidance tactics instead, resolutely staring at the eye chart over his right shoulder. I actually had to squint to read some of the lines.

_'Hmm. Maybe I need glasses.' _

I moved on to study the life size replica of a human skeleton in the far left corner behind Carlisle's desk. It looked a bit gruesome in its bony whiteness with its deep empty eye sockets and prominent jaw full of large teeth. A strong breeze gusting through the open window made the venetian blinds swing knocking the shoulder. Its lower jaw dropped open leaving a gaping dark hole making me jump.

The skeleton seemed to be laughing at me … _hah, hah, I scared you. _

I shuddered. Damned ugly skeleton.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?"

"You won't avoid this conversation, Isabella by not looking at me. I can stay here all day. What about you?"

I scowled. I did _not_ want to spend my Sunday in Carlisle's office with his creepy skeleton. The weight management lecture was looking like a better deal by the second. I decided to suck it up and just discuss the matter with my doctor like the mature young woman everybody assured me I was.

"You know and I know, that you are underweight. Quite a bit for a girl your age and height."

"I know and I'm trying to eat more, but …"

"But what?"

"Sometimes, I'm just not hungry or I'm nauseated and the thought of eating makes me want to, you know, puke," I whispered hoping desperately that he'd just let it go!

Carlisle pulled a rolling chair over and sat down in front of me.

Not a chance.

"What is it about eating that makes you feel this way?"

I looked down at my hands where I'd been twisting them nervously for the past five minutes. I noticed a loose thread on the cuff of my long-sleeved shirt and grasped hold of it desperately (anything to delay responding) pulling at the thread until the poly-cotton knit began to unravel.

"Bella?"

What could I say to him? I was doing better, but guilt still ate at my gut. Even after all of the therapy, I clung to the notion that their deaths were my fault; that they were dead because _I_ wanted to go out for Italian food with them rather than celebrating at home with my friends.

If we hadn't been in Phil's car driving home that night, then the drunk driver who ran a red light wouldn't have crashed into our car and killed them both, leaving me trapped in the car for three hours with their bodies. I knew they were dead; I heard them both die shortly after the crash – I hadn't _ever _told anybody that. The gurgling sounds of their breaths as they bled out from fatal chest injuries was forever embedded in my memory. Sometimes the gurgling sound in my mind intermingled with the piercing sirens and the yells of rescue workers as they worked frantically to save my leg and cut me out of the car which had become a tomb.

I sobbed and hurriedly covered my mouth making it sound like a cough instead and swiped at my eyes. I didn't think Carlisle was entirely convinced.

"Isabella?" he prodded quietly.

"Ahm, well sometimes my nerves, you know, they get the better of me and, um … my stomach churns and that makes me feel sick, so then I don't feel like eating."

Carlisle looked at me with concern and he waved his hand in a _'go on'_ motion.

"Um, and my headaches … I used to get them all the time for a while after … you know ..."

He nodded. "And?"

"Well they made me feel nauseated, and the drugs I was taking, they didn't help either."

Carlisle reached behind him and picked up my medical file from his desk thumbing through about an inch worth of paperwork (in my six inch thick file) until he found the right page.

He frowned. "It says here, that you've been off the drugs for about four months now; that's more than enough time for your digestive system to adjust back to normal."

"Carlisle, I've never been a big eater and I've regained _some_ of the weight I lost after the accident; that's got to count in my favor. I'll try to eat more, I promise," I plead easing myself off the bed praying he'd get the hint and drop it.

He closed my file with a sigh and stood up, taking hold of my arm to help me off the bed and steady me until I stood on one foot.

"I'll get you some crutches … but, this conversation is not over, Bella," he warned. "It's just delayed. Now, wait here and I'll be right back."

He left my file on the bed and strode from the room, the gas door closer thingy releasing with a quiet whoosh. It was quiet in the office and it would have been soothing to me if I hadn't spent a rather large portion of my life in hospital emergency rooms and doctors offices. I glanced around noticing the family photos on Carlisle's desk and the crayon drawings on his wall obviously given to him by some of his younger patients. It showed how caring he was that he bothered to hang them up; most doctors wouldn't.

The creepy skeleton click-clacked in its corner drawing my attention again. I shuddered and averted my gaze quickly and noticed the medical chart laying on the exam bed. I pulled it towards me and looked over the remarks he'd made while I waited:

Blood-pressure – 115/75; _'Hmm a little low, but otherwise pretty good.'_

Pulse – 60 bpm; _'Normal.'_

Pupils – reactive; _'Yay me; I don't have a concussion.'_

Ears – normal;

Height – 5'4"; _'Yep! No surprises there."_

Weight – 105 pounds; _'Ssss. Okay, that was a little lower than I thought it was.'_

I pushed the chart away and spied the thick medical file Carlisle had left on the bed. I fingered the curled edge of the cardboard file folder in indecision. Did I want to have a sticky-beak? It was _my_ file after all. Surely, I was allowed to read my own file?

I glanced at the door and listened carefully to make sure Carlisle wasn't coming back, then before I could chicken out, I pulled the folder toward me and flipped open the front cover. I was flicking through random pages, reading a few words here and there when I heard the door begin to open.

_'Shit.'_

Quickly snapping the cover shut, I pushed it back where I found it, but not before I read:

"..._ feelings of unresolved guilt … blames herself … unwillingness to discuss the immediate aftermath of the accident ..."_

"Here we are, Bella. One pair of crutches," said Carlisle cheerfully as he entered the room.

I swiveled away from the bed and nearly tripped but Carlisle reached out and steadied me.

"Um … thanks."

Could he tell that I'd been looking at my file. I was thinking about what I'd read. It wasn't Carlisle's handwriting, but I'm positive he'd read my file in detail before I even arrived in Forks. His perusal of it earlier to confirm my prior medication regime was just his way of making a point, I was sure of it.

He cocked his head to one side eying the file on the bed. I followed his gaze and bit my lip. The cover was not entirely closed the way he'd left it.

_'Shit! Did I look guilty!' _I could feel myself blushing bright red.

He looked at me quizzically before picking up the file and chart and placing them onto his desk. I wondered if he'd say something.

"I want you to use the crutches for at least the next two days and use the elevator at home rather than the stairs. I'll reassess your knee on Monday night and if it's healing nicely, you can begin walking on it again."

"Okay." I breathed a sigh of relief as I took the offered crutches. He may suspect something but he was letting it go. I decided right there and then, that Carlisle Cullen was a saint.

"Um, thanks."

"And, I expect to see you eating five to six small meals per day – do you understand? I want you to eat at least two meals and three to four healthy snacks. I'd prefer you to eat three meals per day, but I think I'm pushing it with two right now."

I grimaced and gagged slightly.

"I mean it, Isabella," he warned me sternly.

"Alright, I promise."

The rest of my Sunday was spent lying on the sofa in the den reading a book, while Alice filled a notebook with page after page of lists, trolled through a million retail sites on the internet and peppered Esme with endless decorating questions. Rose disappeared into the garage for five hours before emerging mid afternoon covered in grease and the guys drove down to La Push beach and went surfing, returning at twilight exhausted but laughing and tanned from spending the day in the water and sun.

Monday was much of the same for me, and Alice cut up what seemed like five years worth of home decorating magazines then pasted samples into her notebook. Esme escaped Alice by going to work and Rose talked Emmett into driving to Seattle for day. They left early before anyone else was up and didn't get back until everyone had gone to bed that night. I heard them return because I was reading in bed and I noticed the time on my bedside clock. Jasper spent half the day sleeping and the rest of it annoying Alice, presumably in retaliation for her texting him incessantly during Saturday's X-Box tournament. And Edward … well he said that he had something to do in Port Angeles but didn't elaborate and left shortly after breakfast. Carlisle went to the hospital.

On Tuesday, I got rid of the crutches after Carlisle gave me the all clear. Alice had the twitches due to credit card withdrawal and Edward went hiking with his sketchbook and pencils. He came back at dusk with a sunburned face and a mild case of poison oak on his back. Rose, Jasper and Emmett went to the beach because they said the nice weather probably wouldn't last long so they were going to make the most of it. Carlisle and Esme took the day off and didn't come downstairs until after three o'clock in the afternoon. I made hamburgers and Texas fries for dinner with chocolate sundaes for dessert. Emmett was in heaven!

Today was Wednesday which meant a trip to Port Angeles for my first physical therapy session since arriving in Washington, followed by speech therapy, a meeting with my lawyer J. Jenks; _I wondered briefly what the 'J' stood for,_ and then an appointment with my new social worker, Kate.

Tossing the covers back, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the mattress. I needed to pee, then get ready. Carlisle had volunteered Edward to drive me to Port Angeles since he was going there again anyway (Edward had scowled and scratched his back) and Alice had invited herself along so she could scope out the shops for my house restoration.

I had to remember to give her the list of stores I could afford to buy things from. We'd already talked 'budgetary constraints' (not something Alice was all that used to) and I wisely kept the contingency fund amount to myself.

After showering and then drying and French braiding my hair, I wandered back into my room to get dressed in my usual uniform of jeans, T-shirt and converse sneakers, but laying on the bed was an outfit of white Capri pants, a cute little yellow sleeveless top and a pair of white canvas sand shoes, all conveniently in my size. There was also a belt, a white cotton knit sweater-cardigan and a yellow and white tote bag which already contained the contents from my old brown bag.

Alice!

I got dressed in the outfit I correctly assumed she expected me to wear and had to admit it looked good. _I_ looked good. Feminine but not dorky.

I had to give it to the girl; Alice had good taste.

I spritzed on a bit of perfume and swiped at my lashes with some mascara; just because I dressed like a tom-boy, it didn't mean that I wasn't a girl at heart. I threw a tube of lip gloss into the roomy bag to apply after I'd consumed the breakfast Carlisle expected me to eat – he'd presented me with suggested meal options and nutritional guidelines for teenage girls on Monday night.

I made sure to include my small appointment book, my paperwork, a book and my iPod so I had something to do while I waited at each appointment. If the Volterra Rehabilitation Center was anything like the one back in Jacksonville, I might have a long wait before each session.

I pulled the covers up on the bed, feeling slightly uneasy about leaving it unmade, but I was already running late. Edward had made a point of telling me last night that he was leaving at 9 o'clock on the dot so I only had twenty minutes to eat breakfast.

Esme greeted me as soon as I entered the kitchen with a kiss to the forehead and a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, Esme. You're a life saver," I said appreciatively before sipping the delicious brew.

I might not like coke, but I _loved, loved, loved _coffee.

"I thought you might need it," she said with a big smile. "Bella, you look lovely today."

Edward, who was sitting at the breakfast table reading the paper looked up to study me. Our eyes connected for an awkward moment and I couldn't seem to look away. He really was the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen with his unusual hair, penetrating green eyes and pouty mouth.

When he wasn't speaking, I found myself strangely attracted to him.

He smirked at me as though he _knew_ what I was thinking. I gasped and felt my face burning in mortification.

_'Look away, Bella. Just LOOK AWAY!'_

"Um, thanks," I said, wrenching my eyes from Edward to accept Esme's compliment, "but I'm pretty sure it was Alice."

"Oh, it was," confirmed Esme, "but I helped. She sent me shopping Monday afternoon with a detailed list of items to get you including photographs, sizes and acceptable colors."

I cringed inwardly and quickly calculated the balance of my bank account. I didn't get my next trust fund allowance until the 15th of the month.

"Um, how much do I owe you?" I whispered with a tiny bit of unease creeping into my voice.

"Now don't you worry, Bella," Esme scolded gently. "You have a place in this family now which means that we get to look after you."

"And," she said leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, "there is nothing Alice likes more than wearing fashion except maybe shopping for it. She's been that way since Edward gave her a subscription to Vogue for her thirteenth birthday."

"Oh, but I'm not … I mean I have money for clothes and … and stuff …"

"Just give it up, Bella," suggested Emmett who was reading the sports section (naturally) and shoveling what looked like a pudding basin of cocoa puffs into his mouth. He noticed me looking wide-eyed at the enormous bowl and rewarded me with a huge chocolate grin.

I giggled.

Edward snapped the pages of the newspaper he was reading; it looked like the Arts section, and looked pointedly at his watch.

Esme rested her hands on my shoulders and walked me over to the table for breakfast. "You'd better eat, Bella, before Edward leaves without you."

"Where's Alice?" I asked the room while I dished up some Greek yoghurt, natural muesli and fresh raspberries.

"Oh, she's not going," said Esme.

"What? Why?" I asked slightly panicked at the thought of being trapped in a car with Edward for an hour. The olive branch might have sprouted some new shoots since our bonding session on Saturday night, but it hadn't taken root yet and I didn't want to push my luck. Edward's moods were unpredictable to say the least.

"Start eating," ordered Edward. "We leave in seven minutes," he said then went back to reading his paper.

I shoveled a spoonful of food into my mouth and looked at Esme expectantly.

"She's coming to work with me," Esme said with just a hint of dread.

"Oh."

"Yes, she wants a crash course in design and interior decorating," she explained.

I wondered how much actual work Esme would get done with Alice and her endless list of questions tagging along.

I grimaced at Esme in apology. "Sorry."

Esme sighed. "Don't be. I'm just surprised it's taken her as long as it has. I've been expecting her to take an interest for two years now. As soon as you offered her a project with a decorating budget, it occurred to her she'd be able to shop for a whole new range of fashionable items. She's in seventh heaven."

"Uh, Esme," I said hopefully, "could you also give her a crash course on how to follow a small budget and not send her client broke?"

Emmett guffawed but kept slurping up his cereal.

"Already on it, Bella. What is your budget if you don't mind me asking? It might help if I can lead her in the right direction."

"Um, well, I won't know exactly until after my meeting with my lawyer today, but I think I'll have about $10,000 and a $2,000 contingency. I was, ah, going to keep the contingency amount to myself," I said sheepishly."

Edward snickered and Emmett snorted milk out of his nose all over the table and the back of Edward's paper.

Esme just ignored them both and threw a dish cloth in Emmett's general direction and Edward rolled his paper up and thumped Emmett in the head with it.

"Good idea! What about a budget for structural repairs? Jasper said the place is a bit run-down," Esme said sitting across from me at the table.

"I'm hoping I can get my trust fund to pay for them out of a separate budget," I told her with my fingers crossed. "If not, I'll have to make do with the budget I've already got."

Edward waved his hand in the direction of my breakfast in a _'keep eating'_ motion as Alice danced into the room with Jasper trailing behind her.

"Good morning, Bella" she chirped.

Jasper smiled at me and nodded hello but didn't say anything. I smiled back at him.

"Hi, Alice."

"Did Mom tell you I wasn't going with you today?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good. Can I have your credit card number?"

I choked on my last mouthful of yoghurt and muesli. Emmett thumped me on the back almost knocking me out of my chair forcing Edward to reach out and catch me before I landed on the floor. He pushed me back onto the chair and let go of me like I was on fire.

I very possibly might have been. What in hell was that warm zapping sensation I felt every time he touched me?

"Watch it, you big gorilla," Edward rebuked Emmett sharply. "She's not one of your football team-mates; she weighs like three pounds."

"What! Why?" I screeched at Alice deciding I'd think about Edward's heated rescue of me later.

"I need to order samples off the internet. They're free but I need to pay postage and handling," she said with a shrug.

I figured I owed her that for the new outfit I was wearing, but I don't know how I felt about giving someone with Alice's spending habits carte blanche with my bank account.

"Okay, Alice," I said writing the details down on a piece of notepaper. "But you can't spend more than $100 – I can't spare any more than that right now."

Alice squealed and jumped up and down snatching the scribbled note from me before I could change my mind.

"I mean it Alice. I'll be using it myself today and I need to know that I'll have funds there to cover my own expenses."

"Don't worry, Bella. I'll be careful, I promise."

"I'll make sure of it," said Esme sliding the note from Alice's grasp and slipping it into her pants pocket.

Alice pouted.

Edward stood up from the table when the kitchen clock chimed 9 o'clock exactly and I took that as my cue to get up as well and follow him to the car.

Alice asked me for my email address as I was walking out the door. I gave it to her without another thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer. Some lines of dialogue have been used from the books or the movies; no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: This story includes medical references. I want to say upfront that I have no medical training whatsoever and I'm pretty sure that Google doesn't count towards a medical qualification in any country. So with that said, please treat any references in this story relating to medical conditions, injuries, treatments or therapies as being written by someone who doesn't know what the heck she's talking about. It's fiction and I'm using artistic license as an author. I will do some research and include what is relevant, but one can only get so far with internet searches. If I write something incredibly wrong, please feel free to let me know and I'll go and fix it. Nuff said. Read on!

Chapter 5 – Therapy

I followed Edward off the wrap-around porch of the three story white painted house that was originally built in 1901. Carlisle and Esme had purchased the house nestled in the center of twenty wooded acres six years ago.

When they first considered moving to Forks from Chicago, they visited the site as a possible choice of home for their large family. Before the Cullen's rescued the house, it had been standing abandoned and derelict for some thirty years. Esme told me that she and Carlisle could barely fight their way to the front door because the house was overwhelmed with vegetation and the detritus of time.

Esme fell in love with the property and spent the next twelve months commuting between Chicago and Forks supervising the renovation of the house and surrounding gardens. The Cullen's moved to Forks in July of 2005 following the end of the school year and Carlisle started work at the Forks general hospital the day after July 4th.

I trailed a few steps behind Edward toward an enormous high-tech structure almost as large as the house. I had been told by Rosalie, that there was parking enough for eight cars, two motorcycles and a speedboat and you needed a code to enter and exit any of the doors. A large workshop was tacked on to the back of the structure that was Rosalie's exclusive domain.

Though I didn't expect it, Edward shortened his stride to match mine so I could keep up with him and I appreciated his thoughtfulness. Although my knee felt fine, I was being careful not to rush about because doing so would inevitably result in my falling over. He was typing in the door code as I reached the garage and he opened the side door and held it open for me.

"Tants."

"What?" said Edward giving me an odd look.

"I mean," I paused, concentrating on the word I wanted to say, "Th … anks. Thanks."

He nodded and motioned me inside. I was blushing madly in embarrassment. Thank goodness, Edward was behind me and didn't notice.

Either Edward, Carlisle or Esme had always collected me from the front door of the house so I didn't really know what to expect, but this set up absolutely blew my mind. Phil would have peed himself in ecstasy.

The lights had come on automatically when the door opened illuminating the cavernous building housing an impressive assortment of vehicles worth approximately 1.2 million dollars. I gasped. Edward's Volvo was parked in the middle and he led me over clicking the fob on his key chain to disengage the alarm and locking mechanism.

He opened the passenger door for me but stopped me as I went to step in.

"You need to wipe your feet first."

_'Huh?'_

He indicated the floor in response to my confused expression.

"You need to wipe your feet before you get in my car."

I looked down at the painted concrete floor. In front of each car door was a fiber floor mat like the type you'd put in front of the mudroom door. Edward stepped onto the mat and demonstrated the required foot shuffling action he expected me to imitate.

I peered at him, wide-eyed with disbelief. I knew he suffered from OCD tendencies, but this; this was ridiculous!

"You're kidding, right?"

His rigid stance blocking the open door told me he wasn't.

"But, you … you didn't make me do this when you drove me into town last Saturday. Why is today different?"

He blushed pink and fidgeted slightly mumbling something under his breath that I couldn't quite hear.

"Sorry, what?"

He huffed impatiently. "I _said_, Mom told me I wasn't allowed to, alright. Now will you please wipe your feet and get in the fricking car so we can leave; we're already running five minutes late."

I huffed and shook my head, but did as he asked, making sure to reproduce his 'foot-wiping' demonstration perfectly. I could see him watching my feet from my peripheral vision and when he nodded in satisfaction I sat on the seat sideways and swung my legs into the passenger area. Edward swung the door closed with a refined thunk and strode around to the drivers side. I watched him wipe his own feet before he too climbed into the car.

"Put your seat belt on," he commanded pulling his own over his lap and chest and locking it into place. He didn't say anything else to me for the next fifteen minutes. He fiddled with the radio as we rolled down the long winding driveway, finally settling on an easy-rock station as we drove through town. He turned left onto highway 101 heading north towards Port Angeles and pressed down on the accelerator. He drove fast but safely. I thought I might have been nervous, but I wasn't.

I didn't mind the silence because I had the music for company, but I wished he'd say something. I liked Edward even though he had more mood swings on a daily basis than I did when I was PMSing once a month. I wanted to get to know him better but he came across as irritable and reticent which didn't invite questions. I studied him in profile as we drove along. He might have noticed because his hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel and his jaw clenched. He didn't tell me to stop, but the muscles either side of his mouth twitched so I knew he was irritated.

Carlisle had said that Edward was complex and had difficulty overcoming his own issues. I wondered what they were, but I didn't feel confident enough in our relationship to ask him. I thought he might be shy and used his anger and disinterest as a way to protect himself. I didn't know what the catalyst was for his anxiety and OCD tendencies but I assumed they were the 'issues' that Carlisle was referring to, or rather, they were a symptom of an underlying problem.

He didn't seem to have a girlfriend and I was fairly confident that he didn't have a boyfriend but then again, he'd driven to Port Angeles three times in the past week not including today's visit so maybe she/he lived there and not in Forks. I could ask Alice to dish the deets about Edward, but that would just pique her interest about my interest and as much as I liked her, I could do without her match-making interference.

"So, Edward, do you have a girlfriend … boyfriend?" I heard myself ask before I could engage my verbal filter.

The car swerved as he turned his head to scowl at me, then he hurriedly corrected when I indicated the curve in the road in front of us.

"What type of question is that," he demanded.

"The usual type. I'm trying to get to know you by asking you questions about yourself." I paused so he could absorb what I was saying. He ground his teeth. Good, he was paying attention.

"Then, if you're comfortable sharing the details, you would respond to me and then you'd ask me questions," I explained in the tone of an instructor in a dating service.

He fidgeted in his seat and his hands flexed around the steering wheel. The speed of the car increased ever so slightly.

"No, I definitely DO NOT have a boyfriend and I _had _a girlfriend for most of sophomore year but she moved to New York in April."

"What was her name?"

"Lauren."

"Did you love her?"

"I don't believe in love, remember."

"Are you seeing anyone else at the moment?"

"No," he said quietly, glancing at me quickly.

"Hmm." I was weirdly pleased that he was single and even more curious about what he did in Port Angeles three times per week.

I waited for Edward to ask me questions in return, but he didn't. Sheesh, he was hard work!

"Do you have any interests or hobbies? I know you like drawing and piano ..." I trailed off.

He looked at me sharply; his expression both nervous and curious.

"How do you know that?" he said through gritted teeth, staring fixedly through the windscreen at the road ahead.

"You went hiking yesterday and you took a sketchbook and pencils with you. I naturally assumed you were drawing. You were also reading the Arts section of the newspaper this morning."

He swallowed, making his Adams Apple bob. "What makes you think I _like_ the piano?"

"You loaned me your iPod on Saturday night, remember and you set it to a play-list of piano music. It was beautiful by the way. I recognized some of the arrangements … Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata and Clair de lune."

"You know Debussy?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah. My Mom used to play his CD in the car all the time."

"What other music do you like?" he asked exhibiting real interest in our conversation for the first time.

It suddenly occurred to me that he'd avoided confirming my observations about his interests by drawing me out instead. I thought it was probably a skill he'd practiced a lot over the years because he was very good at it. I almost didn't notice.

"Um, my tastes are eclectic. I don't really follow a particular genre or band or anything. I just like what I like."

"And what's that?"

"I like some New Orleans jazz, rock and roll from the '50s. I even like some of the stuff from the '80s."

Edward grinned in understanding. Yeah, the '80s wasn't always the best decade for music. You had to pick and choose your favorites.

"What else do you like?"

"I also like some stuff by Kings of Leon, Ronan Keating, Enrique Iglesias, Muse, Iron and Wine, Alicia Keys, Michael Buble, Van Morrison, Taylor Swift, Robert Pattinson ..."

"That is eclectic taste in music," he agreed.

"Hmm. When I was a kid, Dad would play old vinyl records of 1980's artists like Kiss and Pink Floyd, Bruce Springsteen, Guns and Roses and Queen, so sometimes I listen to their stuff as well."

"Soundtracks of your childhood?"

"Yeah. I love that description, Edward. It's kinda insightful."

"Do you mean to imply that I'm not perceptive?" he said deadpan.

"Yes. I mean No!"

He grinned at my discomposure. My breath caught for a long second and I could only stare at him blankly, dazzled; he was so beautiful when he smiled with genuine enjoyment.

"Hey, I'm just teasing you," he said softly, "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't. I only meant that we don't realize how much we're influenced by our parents taste in music when we're growing up. I mean, we listen to what they listen to ... at home, on the radio, in the car ..."

I couldn't seem to shut up and I found myself relating a story to him about my Mom.

"My Mom was mad about Neil Diamond," I told him. "She used to play his CDs in the house when Phil wasn't home, turning the volume up really loud and dancing around. She talked me into going with her to one of his concerts in 2009," I recalled with a laugh and a shake of my head.

"She was dancing in the aisles, clapping and screaming and singing along, totally into it. The atmosphere was infectious and before I knew what I was about, I was screaming out the words to Cracklin' Rosie, Sweet Caroline and Coming to America with the rest of the crowd. I thought she was going to throw her panties at him at one point when she started hitching up her skirt, but she only wanted to climb up onto her chair to see better. I don't think I've ever seen my Mom lose it over an entertainer the way she did at his concert."

"It sounds like you had a lot of fun."

"Yeah, I did. I _really_ did."

"Um, Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell the others, okay?"

...

Two minutes later, Edward was turning into the visitors car park of a three story sprawling steel and glass structure with the name Volterra RC in large red letters across the top of the building. The digital clock on the Volvo's dash read 9.55 am. Edward parked near the main entrance and released his seat belt, turning in his seat to address me.

"What time is your first appointment?"

"10.30 but I have to register at the admissions desk between now and then."

He nodded. "What's after that?"

"Um, I have physical therapy for an hour."

"So, you have speech therapy after that," he confirmed quietly.

I gulped but nodded. I didn't like to talk about why I needed to have speech therapy. The reason tended to make some people uncomfortable.

"Do you … want me to come in with you?"

My eyes widened in surprise.

"I mean, I've been here before, so I kinda know the ropes. I can help you get registered and show you around and stuff if you like?" he said shyly.

"Um, okay for a while anyway. You don't have to hang around for the next two hours waiting for me."

"Oh, okay. Well, I'll just come back and get you at 12.30 then," he said and pulled his seat belt back over his chest.

I sighed in exasperation. "No, Edward, that's not what I meant. I _meant_ yes, I would like you to come in with me and help me get settled, but no, you don't have to sit in the waiting room for two hours twiddling your thumbs. You must have stuff you need to do, to fill in time between 10.30 and when I finish."

He nodded slowly and climbed out of the car coming around to open the passenger door and help me out. He was very gentlemanly in his manners when his temper didn't get the better of him. We walked to the front entrance where he pulled the door open and waited for me to enter first. He did the same when we left home this morning; opening my car door for me. He led the way to the admissions desk and introduced us.

"Hello. I'm Edward Cullen and this is Isabella Swan. She has two appointments here today."

The pretty red-headed clerk on the front counter regarded Edward with a glassy-eyed expression and a partially open mouth. I swear, I saw her tongue slip out and lick her overly glossed lips and she reached up with her hand to stroke her throat.

_'Geezus! She's flirting with him. Slut! How does she know that I'm not his girlfriend.'_

Edward blinked in confusion. He really had no idea just how dazzling he could be to members of the female sex.

"Ahem," I coughed.

"Hmm," she said dreamily, smiling stupidly at Edward.

I waved a hand in front of her face to gain her attention, then pointed the first two fingers of my right hand at my face.

"Hey!" I yelled smacking the counter. "Over here! Eyes on me!"

"Oh …. sorry, what?" she said coming out of her trance with a shake of her head. I rolled my eyes.

"Isabella Swan. She's new at Volterra RC and she needs to register," Edward explained slowly.

The clerk, whose name was Heidi (typical!) scrambled for a clip board with a form and a pen and told me to fill it in, then bring it back so she could put me in the system. She then went right back to staring at Edward like I wasn't even there.

_'Slag!'_

I took hold of Edward's arm to pull him away from the desk and the red-headed _whore _behind it.

"C'mon, Edward," I ordered. "Let's go over here. Heidi looks like she needs a cold shower," I hissed.

We sat on red molded plastic chairs in the waiting room that were hard against your back and down right uncomfortable under your ass. I guess they didn't want visitors to get too comfortable.

Edward sprawled beside me and scoped out the admissions area, agitatedly jiggling his right leg by rocking it up and down on the ball of his sneakered foot. His eyes didn't stop moving around and he had one hand fisted in his hair. His mouth twisted into a grimace at whatever nightmare thoughts were flashing through his mind. He kept sitting forward like he wanted to get up and bolt for the door. I tried to ignore him and complete the form without mucking it up so I could give it back to the mountain maid behind the counter.

I glanced up at her, unconsciously seeking out the person I was thinking about. She was STILL staring at Edward with a glassy-eyed expression, twirling a curl of hair around one finger. The phone on the desk was ring incessantly and three people were waiting to be served but she didn't seem to notice any of it. One of her colleagues, a battleax with short gray hair and an enormous bust eventually became exasperated and stomped over to the desk to answer it.

I filled in the questionnaire completing all of the standard information like: name, age, address, social security number, health insurance, next of kin; _'Hmm … not sure about that one.'_ I wrote down Carlisle Cullen. I could see Edward from my peripheral looking over my shoulder reading my answers. He stopped his fidgeting and jiggling for a second when I wrote Carlisle's name as my next of kin, but then he started up again worse than before.

I looked at him wondering what had him so agitated and followed his gaze to the double doors leading to the treatment areas. A tall, thin man with really white skin and long dark hair pulled into a low ponytail had entered the area and was speaking with another man in a white coat. The dark haired man had unusual light brown eyes that even from a distance of twenty feet looked bloodshot like he'd had a few too many hard nights.

I wondered who he was. Edward seemed to know him because his stare was fixed on him rather than the man beside him. The dark haired man looked over in our direction and he stopped speaking to white-coat man mid sentence. He nodded an acknowledgment at Edward before continuing his conversation. Edward squinched his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose; the jiggling of his leg beside me increasing exponentially with his agitation. His leg knocked against me making my pen skew across the form.

Without analyzing what I was about to do, I reached out and placed my left hand on Edward's knee in an attempt to calm him. His leg halted its jiggling motion and he turned his head inquisitively in my direction. I worried that he might not want me touching him and started to lift my hand away, when Edward placed his larger one over mine and placed our joined hands back over his knee. His leg jiggling began again, but it wasn't as frenzied as it was before.

I completed the remaining questions on the form and told Edward, I needed to take it up to the counter. He seemed reluctant to let me go so I squeezed his hand soothingly and pulled my hand free.

"I'll be back in a minute."

He nodded. "'Kay."

I handed the completed form to the battleax behind the counter. The mountain maid was sitting at a desk, pouting. The battleax looked at my form, then stared at me suspiciously before tapping a few keys on the computer.

"Health insurance card?"

"Sorry, what?"

"I need your health insurance card."

"Oh, okay." I pulled my wallet from the enormous tote bag I held in the crook of my elbow and fished it out for her.

"I also need your social security card and proof of ID."

I handed her the cards and waited patiently for her to finish completing my registration. I turned around to look at Edward. He was leaning forward on the chair with his head bowed over his parted legs and his elbows on his knees supporting the fisted hands gripping his hair. He stared fixedly at the red and black checkerboard linoleum floor.

Something about this place really bothered him and I wondered what it was. I sympathized with him. I didn't _want _to have to be here either. I saw the man with the long dark hair finish his conversation and walk towards Edward who hadn't noticed his approach. He looked up startled when the man spoke to him and he stood up suddenly, pushing his hands into his jeans pockets. I couldn't hear what they were saying but Edward looked like he wanted to bolt and he responded to the man in monosyllables.

"Miss Swan? Miss ... MISS SWAN?" yelled the battleax slapping her hand on the counter to gain my attention.

She reminded me of my forth grade school teacher, Mrs Parker both in looks and temperament. She'd been a real bitch and should never have been allowed to teach anyone let alone little kids. She scarred me for life when she told me I was stupid in math class. I blamed her for my abysmal lack of ability to cope with more than basic mathematics in society. Algebraic equations could have been petroleum formulas for all I now knew … or cared. I still got good grades because I studied, I just hated math with a passion!

"Huh?" I said apologetically, spinning around.

"Hmmph," she said glaring at me.

"The address on your ID is for residency in Florida and you've marked down your social security number incorrectly. You need to prove your address in Washington. Do you have a student ID card?"

"No. I just moved here a week ago. I haven't had a chance to replace my ID card yet or enroll in school."

"Well you need correct ID or we can't admit you to the program. You'll have to come back when you've got it," she told me slapping my cards on the counter and turning away to throw my completed registration form in the trash.

Apparently, we were finished.

"Wha … what? You can't do that! Doctor Carlisle Cullen made the appointments for me a week ago and he's my temporary guardian."

"It's not policy and procedure," she said snidely. "_You_ can't supply the required identity evidence and until _you_ do, _you_ can't be treated at this facility. Now, I'm very busy and I don't have all day to stand here arguing with you."

"Uh … Uhh," I muttered, absolutely flabbergasted.

Edward. Edward would help me. He promised to help me settle in.

"EDWARD!"

He came dashing over, hurdling over the row of visitors seating eager to escape the clutches of the dark haired man.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"This … this _woman,_" I said accusingly, pointing at her, "won't accept my registration."

He glared at her. "What? Why not?"

"She says because I don't have any ID that proves my Washington residency, that I can't be admitted to the program."

"It's policy and procedure!" the battleax repeated for Edward's benefit.

Edward scowled. "My father is Doctor Carlisle Cullen and Bella's guardian. I'm his son and I can vouch for her. Please get her registered and we'll arrange for new ID before next week," he reasoned.

"It's against the rules," she said smugly, "You wouldn't want me to ignore hospital policy, would you?" she smirked.

I turned my back and looked around the waiting room agitatedly. I found myself wanting to fist my hands in my hair, except there was nothing to grab onto because of the braid, so I had to settle for folding them on top of my head. I suddenly understood Edward's fetish for hair fisting as a coping mechanism. I could hear Edward arguing with the battleax but he wasn't having much luck and I wasn't really taking much notice.

Suddenly, the dark hair man was standing in front of us. I didn't even see him move.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked softly.

Edward stiffened and turned around slowly. He inclined his head, acknowledging his presence.

"Mrs …" Edward leaned forward to read her name tag (it said Knightmere), "Mrs Night_mare_ here," Edward smirked emphasizing _'mare' _(she stiffened and tightened her dry lips into a straight line, obviously affronted), "refuses to register Bella because she can't prove Washington residency," Edward snarled.

"Ah."

The man looked over to the battleax. "Well, Mrs Knight_mere_,' he addressed her pointedly saying her name correctly, "perhaps we can forego that part of the registration process and get Ms Swan into the program."

"But it's against the rules!" she shrieked.

We all ignored her and I asked him quizzically, "How did you know my name?"

He smiled at me. I found him a bit creepy. He reminded me of the skeleton in Carlisle's office but with flesh and skin. I shuddered involuntarily.

He introduced himself and held out his hand to shake mine. "I am Aro Volturi, the director of the Volterra Rehabilitation Center, or VRC for short."

I hesitantly placed my hand in his. The feel of his hand was cold with powdery textured skin; his touch made my skin crawl and I had to stop myself from shuddering again. He held my one hand in both of his and wouldn't let go.

"Carlisle Cullen is an old friend of mine and when he rang me last week to ask me to accept you into the program, I just had to accept."

"Um, Hi. Thanks," I said wrenching my hand from his. I wiped my palm surreptitiously on the leg of my white pants wishing for a bottle of hand sanitizer so I could clean my hands.

Edward grabbed my freed hand in his larger one, holding it tightly, so Aro couldn't take it again. I felt that same zap of energy, I'd felt before when touching Edward's skin. I think he felt it too, because he stroked his thumb over the back of my hand gently. I shuddered again, but this time in a good way.

Aro addressed Mrs Night_mare _firmly_. _"Mrs Knightmere, please be so kind as to register Ms Swan."

She humphed and twisted her mouth like she'd sucked a lemon but reached into the trash can for my discarded form. Aro nodded in satisfaction, then turned his attention back to me.

"Isabella, welcome to VRC."

"Um, it's Bella," I corrected automatically.

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I hope you will continue your recovery here just as positively as you did in Jacksonville. We have some of the best therapists in the country working with us; you're very fortunate that you have Doctor Cullen as your guardian to call in favors," he said slyly. "I'm very sure, we'll be seeing each other again."

_'Not if I could help it!'_

"Edward," he said with a nod and departed.

I breathed a sigh of relief that he was gone and took the patient card the battleax handed to me.

"Wait over there," she ordered indicating the waiting area. "Your therapist will be out to get you in a moment."

"Thank you," I said making a point to be polite to her.

We sat down to wait and I decided to ask Edward about Aro.

"Who _was_ that?"

"A friend of my fathers. They went to medical school together in Boston."

"You didn't seem very pleased to see him?'

He shrugged.

"How do _you_ know him? You were talking with him for a long time."

"I saw him around a lot … when I was here before."

"Before?"

"Um, yeah. I used to come here for a while when we first moved to Forks, but I dropped out of the program last year."

"Oh." I wanted to ask him more, but now wasn't the time. "He gives me the willies," I said instead and shuddered again.

"Yes," agreed Edward. "He seems to have that affect on people."

"But he's friends with your Dad?"

"Yeah."

I decided to change the subject since Edward wasn't very forthcoming with information about Aro.

"What will you do for the next two hours?"

He shrugged. I waited.

"Um, there's a place I go where I can relax and unwind. I'll go there."

_'God, Almighty. Talking to Edward was like pulling teeth!'_

"Isabella Swan?" announced a female voice questioningly.

I waved my hand. "That's me," I said standing up.

"Hi, Isabella," she said coming over to me. "I'm Jane Dough, and I'll be your speech therapist."

_'She's kidding, right?'_

I giggled and Edward smirked beside me.

"Hi, Jane … Dough, is it? Please call me Bella."

'Yes. Jane Dough. It's nice to meet you, Bella. We've had to switch your therapy sessions around this morning but you'll be having PT after this. I hope that's okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Well, come with me and we'll get started."

I turned to Edward. "Well, I guess I'll see you at 12.30."

"I'll be here. Have fun with _Jane Dough_," he whispered.

I giggled and followed her through the doors to the treatment rooms.

She led me into a large bright room containing a desk, a light board for looking at X-Rays and a plethora of therapy and teaching aids.

She sat down behind the desk and slid a pair of eye glasses onto her face. She was tiny. Even smaller than Alice was at 5'2". She had blond hair pulled back into some type of twisted arrangement and pale blue eyes. She looked about fourteen.

"So, Bella, let's review your file and your previous therapy so we can decide how to proceed from here."

I nodded.

"I've read your case notes and I've reviewed your last brain scan. I've also spoken with your doctor here in Washington," (I assumed she meant Carlisle), "and in Florida."

"Okay."

"You've made tremendous strides in your recovery since the accident. Not many people with your type of TBI bounce back so well or so quickly."

I nodded again and bowed my head. When I woke up in the hospital eight months ago, I had been in a coma for more than a month. My parents were dead, I had a broken collar bone, a mangled leg and I couldn't speak. That was the worst part. I know I wasn't a big talker, but all of sudden, all I wanted to do, _was_ speak. I knew the words, I just couldn't articulate them. They came out of my mouth sounding like garbled nonsense. I felt like a toddler jabbering away nonsensically at the adults I was speaking to, who couldn't understand a word I said.

When I realized that the sounds coming out of my mouth weren't what I was saying in my brain, I panicked and the doctors had to sedate me with some type of anti-anxiety medication. It didn't put me to sleep but it calmed me down and made me feel all woozy. When I was calmer, they gave me an electronic writing tablet and told me … I had brain damage; or traumatic brain injury as they called it now.

The sudden deceleration in the accident coupled with the impact with the other car had caused the front of my brain to slam up against the hard corrugated interior of my skull. I had no visible head injuries following the crash other than a headache and no immediate signs of brain injury showed on my scans. I was conscious in the aftermath of the accident while I was trapped in the car and in the hospital emergency room where I was treated. None of the medics saw the two subdural hematomas forming on my brain.

By the time anyone noticed, I'd spent twelve hours in surgery having my collar bone reset and my partially severed leg sewn back together by a micro surgeon. I came out of surgery in a coma and I stayed that way for thirty-three days. After being comatose for that long, my muscles had begun to atrophy from inactivity and I'd lost thirty-three pounds; one for each day of my unnatural sleep.

Jane cleared her throat to recapture my attention.

"So, Bella, your skull looks like a road map," said Jane deadpan.

I laughed and she grinned. The ice had been broken.

"Seriously, Bella, you can't afford any more head injuries. I read in your file that you've had six confirmed concussions since birth, and now the TBI which is by far the most serious brain injury of all of them. You have to be very careful. Each concussion causes injury to the brain and you can't recover from that even if you feel fine afterward. Brain injury is permanent."

"Yes, I know," I confirmed quietly. "I'm terminally clumsy but I'm trying hard to be extra careful."

"Okay. Tell me how you've been feeling. Are you still stuttering?"

"Sometimes, when I'm nervous or stressed or very tired; it seems to happen without warning."

"Are you practicing the speech exercises prescribed by your former therapist?"

"Yes." I do them at night in my room."

"Have you tried singing in the shower?"

"I can't sing."

"Doesn't matter. No one else will hear you and singing is an excellent way of making your mouth form the correct sounds and tones. Take your iPod into the shower with you and sing along. Do you have trouble saying certain words?"

"Sometimes I want to say one word and something else will blurt out."

"Like what?"

"Well, for instances, I might want to say 'kitchen' but it comes out sounding like 'chicken'.

"Hmm. That's a condition that is a consequence of some types of brain injury. It's called Apraxia of Speech."

I looked at her startled. I hadn't heard that one before.

"It's in your file and based on what I've read in your case notes, I agree with the diagnosis."

"What?" I squawked in stunned disbelief.

"You seem surprised, Bella."

"I am. I had no idea."

"That's odd. No one talked to you about it?"

"No."

Jane scribbled a remark in my file then looked up at me. "Well let us move on. I'll look into it," she said. "When was the last time you noticed thinking one word and saying another?"

"This morning. I said 'tants' instead of 'thanks'.

"What did you do?"

"I concentrated and repeated the word slowly until I said it correctly."

She nodded her head. "Good. Let me explain Apraxia of Speech to you."

"People with Apraxia of Speech have trouble sequencing the sounds in syllables and words. The severity depends on the nature of the brain damage. People with Apraxia of speech know what words they want to say, but their brains have difficulty coordinating the muscle movements necessary to say those words. They may say something completely different or even made up words. Do you follow me?"

I nodded.

"So in your example, you may try to say 'thanks' but it comes out as 'tants' or you might want to say 'kitchen' but it comes out as 'chicken'. Sometimes, it may even come out as a made up word like 'bipem'."

"Will it keep happening or get worse?"

"That's hard to say. What is fortunate in your case, is that you recognize the error and try again. Keep doing that even though you might get frustrated because it well help you to overcome the condition. Let's work on retraining the speech muscles to produce the sounds correctly and sequence sounds into words."

"I'll also give you some exercises to do at home that are designed to allow you to repeat sounds over and over and practice correct mouth movements for sounds. You may need to slow your speech rate down or work on 'pacing' your speech so you can produce all the necessary sounds."

The remaining session flew by and before I knew it, the time was 11.30. I made an appointment to see Jane next Wednesday at the same time and thanked her. I really liked her, much more than the speech therapist I had in Florida who had apparently been keeping important information from me.

Jane walked me out to the waiting area and introduced me to my physical therapist who was there waiting for me, chatting up Heidi at the counter. He was tall and rangy with short dark spiky hair and dimples beside his mouth. He was dressed in white sweat pants and a tight white muscle shirt which delineated every muscle of his torso.

"Bella, this is Felix Dunbar. He'll be your physical therapist," introduced Jane.

"Nice to meet you, Bella."

"You too."

"So, you've had a session with the amazing Jane, here. She's good, uh?"

"Yep, really good!"

"I'll see you soon, Bella, okay," said Jane.

"Okay. Bye," I said with a little wave.

"Alrighty, let's get started," said Felix taking my arm to curve it around his. He led me back through the doors to the treatment area and over to an elevator for a ride to the second floor. "You can get changed over there" he said, indicating a changing cubicle off to the side of the large room. "Did you bring some gear?"

I shook my head.

"Okay, well there are some clean sweats on the shelf you can use, but bring your own with you next time, okay."

I said I would and went to get changed.

My PT session went as well as I expected. Felix commented on how well my recovery was and took me through a set of exercises designed to strengthen the muscles in my calf and knee around the injury site. The muscles, tendons and veins that had been reattached by the micro surgeon had healed well without any indication of secondary internal scarring.

The scar ran in a 180 degree half moon line from side to side around the back of my leg. It was still red and angry looking, but it was slowly fading and Felix recommended that I apply some Bio Oil to my skin two or three times per day to help it fade. I had some muscle atrophy in the injury area which _was _improving but which had regressed slightly since I didn't practice my exercises for ten days.

Felix scolded me and told me not to skip them unless I was dying or injured. I told him about my sprained knee and he inspected the knee taking the joint through a series of movements until he was satisfied I hadn't done more permanent damage. Felix suggested I take up swimming as an exercise as it put less strain on my leg but would help strengthen my leg muscles and keep them strong as long as I kept doing it.

Knowing my luck, I'd probably drown.

Felix kept me entertained telling me stories about some of his other patients and flirting with me shamelessly. By the time 12.30 came around, I was hungry and actually looking forward to eating lunch. I made another appointment to see Felix in a week before he walked me downstairs to where Edward was impatiently waiting for me and flipping disinterestedly through a magazine to pass the time.

He smiled and stood up when he saw me coming toward him, eager to lead me out of the center, but he faltered to a stop when he saw that Felix had my arm through his with my hand resting on his forearm. Edward went from smiling and happy to rigid and glaring in 2.1 seconds. He glared pointedly at our joined arms, his mouth a tight straight line of disapproval; his eyes glowing with green fire.

Felix was joking around and patting my hand and generally flirting with me. His behavior was a little inappropriate, but good natured and usually I wouldn't mind since he was an attractive man and I was a healthy, hormonal teenager, but now all I wanted to do was fling his hand from mine and tell him to shut up.

Felix hadn't noticed a fuming Edward who was standing rigid in front of us with clenched hands and he nearly walked us right into him.

Edward growled.

Felix said, "Oh, sorry, Dude. Wasn't looking where I was going," he grinned and proceeded to walk us around him. Edward turned to follow us with narrowed eyes.

"Um, Felix, that was my friend. He brought me here today and he's come to pick me up."

Felix stopped and looked back at Edward appraising him thoroughly. "The intense young man over there with the messy bronze hair and green eyes who looks like he wants to kill me?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Well, well Sweetie. Aren't you a dark horse? You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend during our chat upstairs."

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend. I just live with him."

Felix cocked his eyebrows.

"I _mean_, that I live with him and his family; you know his parents and siblings," I clarified for him.

"Ah. Well Honey, I don't know how much you understand about men, but that one," he said pointing at Edward, "if he's not your boyfriend now, he very soon will be if he has anything to say about it!"

I just scoffed and shook my head. Edward didn't feel that way about me … did he?

"See you later, Sweetness," he said and strode off down the hall giving Edward a wide berth.

I walked back over to Edward who had his eyes fixed on Felix watching him walk away until he was out of sight. He turned back to look at me when I took hold of his arm to gain his attention.

"Who was _that?_" he spat through gritted teeth.

"Um, Felix my physical therapist."

"Why was he all over you? Is that how physical therapists help their patients?" he gritted out.

"He wasn't all over me, Edward. He was just walking me out and flirting with me a bit. It was harmless and he didn't mean anything by it. Why do you care, anyway?"

Edward glared at me and stalked away when he couldn't seem to formulate an appropriate answer.

_'Hmm. Maybe Felix was right!'_

I followed Edward out to the car where he was waiting for me with the passenger door open fiddling with his keys and staring off distractedly.

"Are you hungry?" he asked when we were in the car and driving onto the street.

"Yes, starving. What about you?"

"I could eat. Do you like Italian food?"

I paused momentarily in responding. "Yeah, but I haven't been to one since the night of the accident," I whispered while twisting my fingers. I thought perhaps if I opened up to him a little bit, he might do the same with me.

He looked at me sympathetically and reached over to squeeze my twisting fingers leaving one of his hands on the steering wheel.

"Maybe it's time you did," he said quietly.

Edward parked on the street in front of a pretty Italian restaurant called _Bella Italia_ – beautiful Italy. Two teenage girls were just coming out as we were going in. The brunette girl stopped us by calling out hello to Edward. He cringed and I heard him swear under his breath.

"Edward Cullen. What brings you to Port Angeles today?" she cooed while reaching out to stroke his arm and flutter her over-made-up eyes at him.

I smirked when Edward pulled his arm away and put it around my shoulders instead. She narrowed her panda eyes and glared at me.

"Jessica, Angela," he acknowledged them. "We're just hanging out. What about you?"

"Who's your little friend?" she said with a fake smile, ignoring his question.

"Jessica Stanley and Angela Weber, this is Bella Swan. She moved here recently from Florida. She's staying with my family for a while."

Jessica looked me up and down with a sneer.

"Aren't people from Florida supposed to be like, really tanned?" she asked with a false laugh and another flirtatious glance at Edward.

"Yeah, maybe that's why they kicked me out," I snarked back at her.

Bitch!

"Are you staying for the Summer?" asked Angela with genuine interest. "I can't imagine wanting to leave the sun and sand to spend my vacation in Forks."

Angela had long black hair and sparkling dark brown eyes behind a pair of stylish tortoiseshell eye glasses. She looked like a 'nice' girl, as opposed to the piranha standing beside her.

"Ah, no. I'll be staying here for a lot longer than that."

"Oh. So will you be going to school here in the Fall?" asked Angela.

I nodded. "Yes. I'll be living in Forks until I finish high school."

Jessica stiffened.

"Well, we need to get going," said Edward. "We haven't eaten yet and we've got a lot to do this afternoon."

"Oh! Maybe we can join you?" offered Jessica grasping at any chance to prolong her time with Edward and keep her eye on me.

Angela just blinked and looked at her with a perplexed expression.

"Haven't you already eaten, Jessica? You're coming out of the restaurant; not going in," I pointed out.

She gave me a filthy look that Edward didn't see, but if looks could kill, I'd be dead.

Edward didn't give Jessica a chance to respond before he propelled us forward to the door and reached out to pull it open.

"Have a good day, girls," he said.

"Okay. Well maybe we'll see you later; or we can do something?" she called out desperately.

_'Not if I could help it!'_

A few minutes later we were sitting in a booth by the front windows ordering drinks and perusing the menu. I made my choice quickly and waited for the waitress to come back for our food orders.

"How was therapy?" Edward said stripping a paper napkin to shreds.

"It was fine. I have to come back again next week."

He nodded. "I'll drive you."

"Okay, thanks."

"What did _you_ do while I was busy?" I asked him pointedly.

He shrugged. "I just hung around."

"You hung _around_? Doing what?"

"Just stuff."

"Geezus, Edward, trying to get you to open up and talk about yourself is like yanking impacted teeth," I said, thoroughly exasperated with him. "I've told you stuff about myself, about my Dad and my Mom. Why can't you do the same?"

He looked displeased; his brow furrowed. He shook his head and frowned.

"This is more complicated than I'd planned," he murmured to himself.

I picked up a breadstick and nibbled on it, waiting for him to go on. I wondered when he would say something or if I would have to ask him another question.

"Why is everything about _you_ a big secret?" I demanded of him.

"I'm not secretive; I'm just private. You're so much more interesting," he said trying to distract me.

It didn't work. I raised one brow and waited.

He took a deep breath as though gathering himself and blew it out between his pursed lips.

"What do you want to know?"

"Where did you go today?"

"I went to the community college," he smirked.

The waitress came back with our drinks and took our food orders. I ordered the mushroom ravioli and Edward ordered the vegetarian lasagne. It was a strange choice for a guy; most would have ordered the meat lasagne, pizza or spaghetti bolognese.

"What did you do there?"

"I went to the auditorium."

I rolled my eyes, frustrated with his answers. "You know, Edward if you're going to answer in monosyllables we're never going to get anywhere."

"Then maybe you should ask an open-ended question," he retorted.

The waitress, Amber came back with our meals. She plonked mine on the table in front of me then stood with her back to me while she served Edward.

"Can I do anything else for you," she asked him not looking at me. I don't believe I was imaging the double meaning in her words.

He shook his head.

"Let me know," she said.

I picked up my fork to start eating. Yum, the ravioli was good. I couldn't believe how hungry I was. I had to remember to tell Carlisle; he'd be so pleased. I sated the worst of my hunger while I formulated the question I would ask Edward. I looked up. He wasn't eating; he was staring at me.

"What?"

He shook his head, smiling. "Nothing. I'm just glad you're enjoying eating your food for a change, rather than picking at it like a bird."

"Yeah, well … I've had a busy morning." I indicated his food with my fork. "Is there something wrong with yours?"

He stared down at his untouched plate. "No. I forgot it was there," he said with a wry laugh.

He picked up his silverware and began to carve up his lasagne into twelve equal sized pieces. I let him eat half his food before I spoke again.

"For what purpose did you go to the auditorium at the community college?"

He coughed, nearly choking on a mouthful of his lasagne. He thanked me gratefully when I pushed a glass of water toward him. He gulped it down slowly, swallowing the entire contents. Delaying tactics. He was good at them.

"Are you going to answer my _open-ended_ question?"

He rested his elbows on the table and folded his hands together under his jaw. He smirked at me.

"I went there for the purpose of playing the … piano."

"You play?" I breathed.

"Yes."

"Tell me why you don't have a piano at home."

"You're learning," he said obliquely referencing my second open-ended question.

I grinned and waved at him in a _'go on'_ motion.

"I don't have a piano at home because I haven't played in over six years … until recently."

"What changed?"

"I missed it."

"Tell me how playing piano makes you feel."

He looked surprised at the question. He probably expected me to ask him why he missed it, or why he stopped playing in the first place.

"Um, when I sit down to play a piece of music, its like all of my troubles melt away," he explained softly. "Nothing else matters to me but the piano, the music, the notes, the melody. The music; it absorbs me, surrounds me and cushions me. I can express myself with the piano in a way that's like no other I've ever known. The emotion I feel when I become one with the instrument and the music we're making; it just makes me feel like I have a purpose. It makes me feel alive."

I wiped the tears from my cheeks. They way he described playing the piano, becoming one with the instrument was beautiful. Edward reached over and wiped a stray tear from below my eye with his thumb.

"Don't cry," he begged.

"Can I hear you play?" I sniffled.

"You already have," he told me shyly.

The iPod!

"That was you?"

"Yes."

"Edward, your music; it was beautiful," I told him. I could barely describe how wonderful it was to listen to. "You are so talented."

He blushed.

"Will you play for me sometime … in person?" I asked him hopefully.

He shrugged and cleared his throat.

"Have you finished eating? We should go if you want to do some shopping or something before your next appointment."

I wiped my mouth with the napkin and told Edward I was visiting the bathroom. When I came out after taking care of my needs and splashing my face with cold water, he was waiting for me by the door, having already paid for our lunch.

"What's my share of the bill?"

"Nothing, Bella. It was my pleasure."

I thought about objecting, but I didn't want to spoil the growing bond that was forming between us by arguing about it and pissing him off.

"Where to now?" he asked me as we climbed back into the car.

Hey, we haven't been wiping our feet! I said as much to Edward. He blushed shyly and said that it was only important the first time he drove the car each day or just after he'd cleaned it. I chuckled and accepted it as one of his little idiosyncrasies. They were as much a part of him as playing the piano was.

I asked him to take me somewhere where I could pick up some personal hygiene products and where I could find a camera store. We drove to a mall downtown that wasn't too far from my lawyers office in the office tower adjoining the mall. I had about forty-five minutes to spare before my appointment with J. Jenks at 2.30 and I asked Edward about his plans on our way to a discount pharmacy in the mall.

"Edward, I'll probably be about an hour speaking with my lawyer. Are you okay to sit in the waiting area, or do you want to browse the mall?"

"I might browse. There's something I need to buy."

I grabbed a basket as we entered the store and headed off down the aisles to pick up the items on my list. I wasn't a person who usually dawdled or browsed while shopping. I went into a store with a list; I got what I needed, I paid and I left. Edward browsed and picked up shaving gel, toothpaste and hand sanitizer throwing them into my basket, then taking it from me to carry.

He was such a gentleman, I sighed inwardly. I grabbed a hand sanitizer as well; if I was going to meet Aro Volturi again, I wanted one in my bag.

After paying for our items, Edward grabbed the bag and we wandered down the mall to a well known camera store. I knew exactly what I wanted and went over to the glass cabinet housing the camera lenses. I quickly found what I was looking for and looked around for a sales person, waving over a blond haired man with very tanned skin who looked like a surfer rather than someone who worked in a retail store.

I told him what I wanted and politely cut him off when he tried to give me his sales spiel. Edward watched us the whole time, laughing silently. Surfer-sales guy removed the Canon telephoto lens I wanted and walked us over to the cash out desk where the cashier rang up the sale. He tried to linger but cleared off in a hurry when Edward growled.

"That will be $249.95. Will that be cash, eftpos or charge?" the cashier asked with a snap of her chewing gum.

"Eftpos, please," I told her pulling out my wallet and grabbing my bank card.

"You're a photographer?" Edward said as we walked out of the mall, the bag holding my new lens in his hand.

"Yes."

"Are you any good?"

I blushed and laughed. "I think so, yes."

"You'll have to show me some of your photographs sometime," he said, but it sounded like a question.

"If you like; _but_ …"

"There's a condition?" he said, his voice playfully ominous.

"You have to play the piano for me."

"Fair enough," he agreed. "I'll walk you to your lawyers office and take this stuff to the car. What time should I come and get you?"

"I have to see my social worker at 4 o'clock and it's nearly 2.30 now. How long will it take us to get across town?"

"About 15 minutes, give or take," he replied with a shrug.

"Okay, can you come get me at 3.30 and if I finish earlier, I'll text you; how does that sound?"

"Perfect," he confirmed as he pressed the call button for the elevator in the adjoining office tower. "Which floor?" he asked as the doors opened.

I pulled my appointment book from my bag and checked. "Tenth."

He pressed the floor button and the doors closed, enclosing us in the confined space. I could smell his cologne more intensely in the small room and I unconsciously breathed in and out deeply. I felt kinda quivery in my lower belly and I wanted to stroke his hand beside me. If I just moved an inch or two closer to him, I could reach out and brush against him without it seeming obvious.

I was starting to feel light-headed when the elevator car reached the tenth level and the doors opened. Edward led me out and down the right hand corridor with a hand at the small of my back.

"Here we are," he said holding the door open for me.

"Thanks, I'll see you in an hour," I said.

"Yes you will," he said with a brush of his lips against my cheek and then he was gone.

A/N: If you don't know who Neil Diamond is, ask your mother. Otherwise you can go to my blog and I'll try to upload a couple of song links. My blog address is on my profile; you can click on it and it will take you right there. I'll be uploading photos there relating to my stories.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: This chapter includes some legal talk; I'm not sure of the actual inheritance law in the US so I've based discussions in this chapter on what I know of the law in Oz. Hopefully it's the same or very similar. Anyway, it's a story, so it doesn't really matter.

-OUaSN-

Chapter 6 – Legal Talk

My skin tingled in the exact place where Edward's lips had pressed against my cheek just moments ago. I shivered and the quivery feeling in my belly morphed into a sensation that I didn't know quite how to describe. I felt elated but that was an emotion originating in my brain. This other feeling; it was a physical reaction; it was chemical. I thought it might have been desire.

I shook the feeling off because the receptionist behind the the long curved desk was asking if she could help me. I introduced myself and told her I had an appointment with J. Jenks at 2.30, then sat down on the ultramodern white leather sofa positioned in front of a large glass window with views overlooking downtown Port Angeles.

My thoughts drifted to Edward Cullen while I waited. I couldn't quite work him out but I felt I was starting to get below the surface. His moods and his behavior were erratic, making it difficult to know exactly how he would react in any given situation. A lot depended on what triggers affected his frame-of-mind from one moment to the next. He was like Jekyll and Hyde; Yin and Yang; Good and Bad.

On one hand, when he was Hydeward, he was rude and bad-tempered; impatient, selfish and angry at the world, swearing like it was a second language and dropping the f-bomb into his conversation every other word. Hydeward was tortured by ghosts that I didn't even begin to understand.

On the other hand, Jekyllward was pleasant, solicitous, considerate, shy and gentlemanly. He like to draw and play the piano, and he adored his Mom and his sister, Alice. Jekyllward was riddled with idiosyncrasies that I found endearing, if sometimes ridiculous, and most importantly, I was positive this Edward believed in love.

"Miss Swan?"

My reverie was interrupted by the arrival of a rotund balding man in a gray suit and red tie.

"Yes."

"Miss Swan, I'm J. Jenks, but you can call me Jenks."

"Hi, please call me Bella," I said, standing up and shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you at last."

"Likewise. It's, ah, unfortunate that we're meeting under such circumstances," he condoled making an oblique reference to the deaths of my parents and Phil.

"Yes," I replied softly, "Thanks."

"Come into my office so we can talk. Gianna, can you bring us some coffee, please?" he called to the receptionist before he led me down a short corridor to a large corner office. "Please take a seat."

He went behind a large mahogany desk and sat in a black leather chair of the type often seen in the office of a company executive. He coughed and adjusted his seat in the chair awkwardly like he was nervous and didn't quite know what to make of me. I sat opposite his desk in a deep upholstered armchair covered in soft ivory colored chenille fabric feeling just as awkward as he did.

"So how have you been, Bella? Are you doing okay?"

I nodded stupidly a few times. "I'm good. Everything's good."

He nodded stupidly back at me. "Good. That's good."

Jenks fidgeted in his chair and loosened his tie pulling the shirt collar away from his neck. I had the feeling that he was not used to having a teenager as a client. We exchanged sporadic banal conversation for another couple of minutes until a tap sounded at the door. It was Gianna with the coffee tray and some water. _'Thank God!'_ The awkwardness filling the atmosphere in the room was becoming unbearable.

She poured out two cups and offered me the milk and sugar which I accepted and I stirred my coffee more than was necessary to fill the stifling silence. Jenks slurped at his coffee, then pulled a file toward him, a yellow legal pad and a pen, apparently having made a decision to stop prolonging the agony.

"Okay, Bella, let's get started, shall we?"

I sipped my coffee and bobbed my head affirmatively.

"Let's start with the most recent events and then work our way backwards," he said. "Do you know the contents of your mother and Phil's Wills?"

"Um, not really. I was only told that I was my Mom's sole beneficiary."

"Yes, that's right. But you are not a beneficiary to Phil's estate through your mother because they died at the same time."

"Okay, I get that."

He nodded in apparent satisfaction that I understood and continued. "You are a minor, so that means you can't actually take control of your inheritance until you turn eighteen. The same applies to the inheritance from your father's estate."

"Yes, I know that. That's why there's a trust fund."

"Correct. I am the trustee which means that decisions about how the assets and earnings of the trust are used, is up to me. Up until your mother died, the trust was paying a stipend to her to contribute to your support and education and I've transferred that stipend to you instead."

"I know that too," I told him.

"Good. I want to discuss with you what your inheritance actually consists of and we'll start with Renee and Phil."

"Wait, I thought you said I wouldn't inherit anything from Phil?" I said, confused.

"This inheritance is a direct bequest to you from Phil written into his Will. It's only the inheritance which would have gone to Renee as his spouse had she survived him for thirty days, that you won't inherit. Do you understand now?"

"Um, yeah, yes."

Jenks took another slurp of his coffee and picked up a sheaf of stapled pages from the file in front of him.

"This is a summary of your mother and Phil's Wills as they pertain to you."

I gulped. I don't know why I did, but I did. Maybe it was because I'd never been to a lawyers office before or maybe it was because it was the first time I would know the contents of my parents Wills. Maybe it was both; I just don't know. I felt saliva fill my mouth warning me that I was about to puke. I breathed slowly and deeply for a few moments and took a sip from the glass of water Gianna had brought me.

"Phil left you a substantial contribution to your college fund in the amount of $40,000."

My eyes bugged out of my head. Shit!

"That's enough to pay for one semester at an ivy league college; or two to three semesters at a less prestigious one. It's currently invested in a college savings plan together with the contributions that both of your parents made for you over the years. The current balance is $75,000 but with interest earnings, you'll have around $81,000 in two years. If you don't go to college then you have to wait until you're twenty-one to inherit and you'll have to pay tax on its prior and future earnings."

Jenks paused. "Is there anything you don't understand?"

I shook my head. I tried to swallow the lump lodged in my throat and took another sip of water. Jenks continued in the monotone voice that most professionals seemed to use.

"You've inherited from your mother a life insurance policy in the amount of $250,000 (I gasped) and the proceeds from the sale of the house in Phoenix in the amount of $122,000."

"Wait, wasn't the Phoenix house sold three years ago when we moved to Jacksonville?"

"Yes, but Renee had an agreement with Phil that any net profit," he paused to explain, "that's the sale price less any taxes, loan repayment and the original purchase price," I nodded that I understood (Yay for the business studies elective!), "would be kept for your benefit."

I gulped again. Shit!

"Your mother also left you her jewelery valued at $20,000 which," Jenks flipped the page over to check another one, reading over the top of his metal rimmed glasses, "consists mainly of her engagement and wedding rings from her marriages to Phil and Charlie. She also left you a watch, a 14 ct gold charm bracelet and a necklace with a cross. Neither the rings from your father, the watch or the cross are particularly valuable, but presumably they have sentimental worth to you?"

I nodded. The watch and the cross had belonged to Mom's mom and she always said they'd be mine someday; and the rings were precious to me because my Dad had given them to my Mom.

"You can have Renee's jewelery when you leave here today; I have them in my safe," Jenks told me.

I coughed. "Um, thanks. What about my mothers personal property; her clothes and books and stuff like that? Um, there's also my stuff as well from my bedroom in Jacksonville?"

Jenks flipped over another page of the document he was holding. "Ah, yes. It says here that your mother's clothing, shoes and the like, were packed up and donated to charity. Her other personal possessions were boxed up and placed into storage as was everything of yours."

Jenks looked at me inquiringly. "Do you want me to have those items shipped here from Florida?"

Did I want that? If it was shipped here I'd have to sort through all of her stuff and I didn't know if I was ready for that. On the other hand, I would like my own things around me; my clothes and books and music. I also had a really good laptop and printer that would come in handy when I went back to school in the Fall.

"Yes," I confirmed quietly, "could you arrange that for me as soon as possible."

"Yes," said Jenks scribbling down a remark on the page. "There's one other item that we need to discuss and that's Renee's car. She also left that to you but you may not want to keep it. It's current resale value is $25,000."

I had forgotten about the car. Renee had a fire-engine red Chevrolet Camaro which she'd absolutely loved. Phil had given it to her for their fifth wedding anniversary and she'd promised to teach me to drive in it when I got my learners license. It was a two-seater coupe model with a black leather interior and mag wheels, and it was sweeeet. It suddenly occurred to me that Mom wouldn't be teaching me to drive and I didn't know if I wanted to drive the car that she'd loved like a second child.

"Where is the car at the moment?" I asked him chewing on my lip uncertainly.

"It's also in storage in Florida. What would you like to do with it? As the trustee, the decision is ultimately up to me, but I will take your wishes into consideration which is why I haven't sold it yet."

"Could I think on it for a while, Jenks … I'm not sure ..." I said trailing off and rubbing at my temple. I could feel a headache coming on.

"You take all the time you need, Bella. It's not going anywhere and the storage costs aren't that high."

Jenks looked at his watch to check the time, then picked up another sheaf of papers clearing his throat.

"Okay, let's go through your father's estate and then we can talk about your emancipation application."

"Okay," I agreed in a small voice. For some reason, it felt harder to hear about Charlie's Will than it did Renee's.

"When Charlie died he was in active service with the Forks police department. As his sole beneficiary you inherited his employer life insurance benefit of $315,000 and a pension of $18,000 per year. Its been accruing in the trust for the last four and half years but it ages out when you turn eighteen."

"Still with me?" he asked.

"Yes," I croaked out in disbelief.

"Charlie also had a personal life insurance policy with you named as sole beneficiary in the amount of $250,000." (I felt weak). You also inherited Charlie's house in Forks including all of the contents and his boat. The boat was sold and the house and furniture, as you are aware, was rented out for the past four years. Those rent monies have paid off the outstanding mortgage and the house is now free and clear."

I felt sick. I swallowed down bile and nodded stupidly again.

"So to summarize, you have a college fund of $75,000 and a trust fund balance of around $1,100,000 which includes the sale proceeds from the boat and all earnings to date that were not used in your support and education, or in the administration of the trust."

I was absolutely dazed, or maybe I was in shock; I dunno. I pinched myself to make sure I was awake and not dreaming. Ow! I could hear Jenks' voice droning on and on about the assets of the trust but by this stage in the discussion I'd already zoned out. I felt like I was underwater, listening to a conversation that was very far away. I shook myself and when that didn't work, I pinched myself repeatedly until I floated back to the surface ...

" … the police pension and other earnings are $83,000 per year depending on the prevailing interest rate and the remaining assets – the jewelery and the car are valued at $45,000. Charlie's house was recently valued, in its current condition at $417,000. Your total current assets are in the ball-park region of $1.6 million dollars with estimated earnings of $65,000 per year when you take control at eighteen."

I nearly fell off the fricking chair! I gasped, trying really hard not to hyperventilate. I had absolutely no idea; none, nada, zip, zilch. My head was whirling with facts and figures and the pounding in my head had increased; I needed a Motrin or three – soon!

"Are … are we finished yet?" I asked hopefully.

"Nearly. I just have a few other items to discuss with you about your allowance and the emancipation, okay?"

I nodded and peered at the floor.

It really wasn't okay but I didn't know if I could cope with coming back again to hear the rest of it, if I didn't stay now. I focused on a snag in the carpet to keep myself from losing it completely, and rubbed at my temples trying not to throw-up the acid burning in my throat. I wanted to get out of here; go home and curl up under the covers of my bed and sleep for a week.

"The trust has been paying into your bank account, an allowance of $1500 per month. That will increase to $2,000 when you turn sixteen and should be sufficient income for you to live on comfortably. You'll have to start lodging a tax return as well. Did you lodge one for this year?"

"No," I squeaked biting back a sob. I started shaking and I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from the carpet snag. It had become something static to focus on; a lifeline of sorts. I heard, rather than saw Jenks fill my glass then slide the water toward me. I reached for it gratefully and drank down the entire contents.

"Ahem, right, well I'll put you in touch with an accountant who can organise all of that for you. Are you okay, Bella? Shall I continue?" asked Jenks slightly bewildered about what to do with an emotional teenager.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Um, I just have a bit of a headache. Please continue," I begged, eager to escape.

"Alright," he murmured uncertainly. "I've put aside $25,000 for structural repairs to the house and $15,000 for you to use on decoration, appliances and furniture. I'll, ah, send you a letter to give to the contractors authorizing that invoices for the structural repairs should be sent to me, and I'll transfer the other funds into your account on Friday. Are you attending physical therapy still?"

"Yes, um at Volterra," I whispered weakly. I heard him scratching away with his pen so I assumed he was noting it down.

"I'll write to them and have those invoices sent to me as well. You'll only need to pay your ordinary medical bills and other personal expenses. I've lodged your emancipation application with the courts and a hearing is set for September 15th. A guardian ad litem has been appointed by the courts who I believe is ..." I heard him shuffling papers, "yes, here it is, Kate Walker. She will represent your interests in the emancipation proceedings with my assistance. Irina Denali has offered her services as well."

Wait, I thought Carlisle Cullen was my guardian and I looked up from the floor at last, saying as much to Jenks.

"Yes he is, but he's a temporary general guardian appointed by the state with the authority to look after your personal well-being. Kate Walker has been appointed by the courts to look after your interests in a single legal action which is the emancipation."

"Oh." I swallowed hard a few times. "Um, what happens if the judge doesn't grant my petition?" I asked him curiously.

"If that happens, and I don't think it will because you have the trust assets and the income to support yourself, and an abode to live in; but if it does, then the courts will appoint a permanent guardian until you turn eighteen."

"Will that be Carlisle, or somebody else?" I asked worriedly. In only a week I had come to appreciate the Cullen's and if I wasn't to be emancipated then I wanted to stay with them – if they'd have me.

"It's hard to say, but the judge would more than likely take into account your and the Doctor Cullen's opinions as well as Kate's with regards to the situation and if the views are positive, then Doctor Cullen would more than likely be made your permanent guardian."

I breathed an obvious sigh of relief. Jenks smiled.

"Do you have any more questions for me today before we finish up?"

I coughed hoarsely to clear my throat. My mouth and throat felt like the Sahara desert; parched and grainy. My head felt fuzzy, but I wanted to know one last thing before I left.

"Um, if the emancipation isn't granted and Carlisle becomes my permanent guardian, will I still be able to live in my house?"

"That decision will be left entirely up to your guardian. If your guardian, and let us assume it will be Doctor Cullen, believes you to be mature and capable of caring for yourself without adult supervision he may grant you permission … but it's really hard to say. And, Bella …"

"Yes?"

"Don't dwell on what you can't change. For the moment, you are safe and comfortable with the Cullen's; you have a generous allowance from the trust, and you're fixing up your house which will give you something positive to focus on. Whether you move into the house in three months or two years, it makes no real difference; the house is yours."

I felt comforted by Jenks' words. "Will you rent it out again if I don't live in it?" I asked worriedly. I didn't want to spend time and money fixing up the house to have it trashed again by uncaring tenants.

"Probably not; if you ask me not to."

"Okay. Thanks, Jenks, for everything," I said gathering up my bag and sweater preparing to leave.

"Um, just to be clear – I'm asking," I said quietly, my fingers crossed. I didn't want anyone else but me living in Charlie's house.

He guffawed and shook his head in amusement. "I thought you might."

"Let me get you Renee's jewelery before you go." He handed me a thick envelope. "In there is a copy of everything we've talked about today; you can look it over and then phone me if you have any questions or you can come back and see me. Why don't you go and freshen up then wait in reception for me and I'll be out in a few minutes," he suggested.

I stood up unsteadily with the thick envelope clutched in my hands. Jenks walked me to the office door and pointed me toward the bathroom, then strode off in the opposite direction.

I stumbled through the door of the bathroom barely able to breath I was so shattered. Dumping my belongings onto the washbasin counter I leaned against it with my hands and started gasping. My head and my heart were pounding and I could hear the sound of my own pulse roaring in my ears like the ocean. My legs were shaking and I could scarcely keep myself upright; if not for the counter, I would have collapsed to the floor. Cold sweat broke out all over my face leaving my skin clammy and my stomach churned with nausea like a blender gone mad.

_'God! I'm gonna be sick! I'm gonna be SICK!'_

I threw myself away from the counter and slammed open the inner bathroom door leading to the toilet cubicles and collapsed to my knees in the first vacant stall. By the time I lifted the lid my stomach had turned itself inside out heaving its contents into the bowl. It went on and on and on until my gut was in agony and I was crying tears of distress.

Still on my knees, I reached for the flusher button embedded in the wall then collapsed back onto my ass and rested against the stall wall. My legs were curled under me and I vaguely registered that my bad leg was sore but I couldn't focus on anything other than my raging heartache. It was the first time since the accident that I'd actually let myself acknowledge the grief.

I wrapped my arms around my body shivering with cold, vaguely recognizing that I was going into some type of emotionally induced shock. I couldn't stop crying and I didn't know what to do. I wished my Mom was here to make it all better and that made me cry even harder.

"WHY?" I sobbed out in agony. "WHY DID YOU ALL DIE AND LEAVE ME ALL ALONE?"

"WHY? TELL ME WHY?" I screamed at the ceiling then banged the back of my head repeatedly against the wall when I didn't get a response.

I didn't _want_ their money or their possessions; '_I WANT THEM!'_

I screamed and screamed and screamed, "AGHHHHH," choking on the snot running down the back of my throat.

I _wanted_ my Dad to give my boyfriend a hard time when he came over to pick me up for a date or take me to Prom. I _wanted_ my Dad to collect me from the hospital with a resigned shake of his head because I'd gotten stitches again.

I _wanted_ my Mom to drag me to the mall to shop for trendy clothes, and to concerts for aging 80's rock-stars. I _wanted_ my Mom to teach me to drive in her car and help me dress for Prom and try on wedding dresses.

I _wanted_ Phil to finish teaching me how to build a deck and wire in a light fixture. I _wanted_ Phil to slow-pitch a baseball at me underarm because I screamed like a girl and dropped the bat in fright if he did it the right way.

_'What did I do that was so bad, that YOU had to take away from me, every single person I've every loved! _

_WHAT? WHAT did I do?' _I begged silently.

There was no answer; I don't know why I ever thought there would be. I was sobbing uncontrollably; I knew I was, but now that the flood gates were open, I didn't know how to close them again.

I was a good girl; I was smart – I studied hard and got good grades; I was kind to old people and animals; I didn't smoke or drink or lie or cheat or any of those other rebellious behaviors so many other teens tortured their parents with. I never gave my parents any trouble at all as far as I could tell; well except for my tendency toward injuries but that wasn't my fault!

"Ohhhh," I moaned. My stomach was cramping again. I didn't think I could possible have anything left in my stomach to vomit, but somehow I found the strength to pull myself up and over the toilet again. I puked up bile, choking on the acid that coated my throat, mouth and teeth with its fiery caustic taste.

I collapsed back against the wall, too exhausted to flush or to even care that I was sitting on a public bathroom floor.

'_Why were they dead while I survived?'_

I pulled some toilet tissue off the roll beside me and scrunched it into a ball against my mouth wiping away the acid and tears and snot. I was gagging reflexively at the taste in my mouth as my stomach relaxed. Throwing the disgusting ball in the toilet, I snatched some more and held it against my crying eyes.

My head was pounding like it never had before; it hadn't felt this bad even after the accident. I could hear insistent knocking at the outer bathroom door and I thought I heard my name, but I couldn't be sure because there was a loud buzzing in my ears.

"Bella, Bella are you in there? BELLA!"

"Ed … Edward?" I squeaked. "Edward," I sobbed in relief, dissolving into tears again.

Edward would help me!

"Edward?" I garbled out through the tears – it didn't even sound like a proper word. "Edward, help me, please, oh, Edward please …?"

I heard yelling, then Edward was slamming open the inner bathroom door.

"BELLA? BELLA?"

"Oh, Bella," he sighed at the door to my stall.

He was standing over me staring at my prostrate figure on the floor, with an expression of heart-wrenching pity written all over his face. He crouched down to wipe my eyes with his thumbs and pull me into his arms. I threw my arms around his waist and buried my wet and clammy face against his white button-down shirt inhaling his masculine scent mixed with some type of expensive cologne, and rested my hot cheek against his hard chest.

'_He smells so good!' _

I wiggled against him to get closer; I wanted to climb inside him and hide. _'Fight or Flight?' _I wanted to flee and Edward's arms and body were my safe haven. Without even realizing what I was doing, I started clawing at the buttons on his shirt, trying to pull it open so I could touch his skin. I needed contact with a living, breathing human being. I needed somebody to touch me and hug me and brush my hair like Renee used to, and tell me that they loved me and that everything was going to be alright.

Edward's hand was on my head, stroking my hair but his fingers kept getting caught in the unraveling French braid. He was crooning nonsense in my ear trying to calm me down. I had no idea what he was saying because my higher brain functions had shut down, but it seemed his crooning was beginning to work. I got four of the buttons open and it was enough for me to pull his shirt open and rub my face against his skin like a kitten. I felt him stiffen for a second before he relaxed.

I felt myself being picked up off the floor and then I was being carried in Edward's strong arms, held tightly against his body. Gianna held open the bathroom doors and handed Edward my bag threading it over the wrist of his hand under my body; I could feel its handles press against my back. She laid a bottle of water on my belly and curled my hand around it so I wouldn't drop it. I wanted to thank her, but I simply couldn't summon the energy.

My eyes hurt in the glare of the florescent lights and I closed them tightly. They felt grainy and itchy from crying and my nose was dribbling like a leaky tap. I realized that I probably looked frightful. Jenks was murmuring to Edward as he walked us through the front doors out of his office and down the corridor to the elevators. I know Edward was responding but I just couldn't comprehend what any of it was. I felt disjointed and confused like I was lucid but asleep at the same time and it frightened me!

I felt Edward place me onto the passenger seat of his car and pull my seat belt across my body. He climbed in behind the wheel and threw my bag into the back seat. I felt the corrugated plastic rim of a bottle at my lips and Edward was pleading with me to take a sip of water. I wanted to please him so I opened my mouth a little and sighed in pleasure as the cool liquid slid over my tongue and down my throat soothing my acid burned gullet.

I was shaking uncontrollably; I was freezing and my flesh was covered in goose-bumps.

"Cold," I mumbled. "Thirsty."

"Shssh, Bella. It's okay, I'm here," he said soothingly while rubbing my arms.

"JESUS! You're bloody freezing," he said.

_'Didn't I just say that?'_

"Bella, I'm turning the heat on," he murmured. "We have to get you warm or you'll go into shock." he said (I thought I probably already was in shock) and I heard the car start, then felt warm air blast out of the vents as Edward turned the heat up to high.

He was rubbing my clasped hands with one of his. "Come on, come on, ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE!" Edward yelled.

I cringed and turned my head away from the noise.

"It's okay, Bella. Shssh," he soothed me stroking my hair. "I'm just calling Carlis …"

"Dad, DAD! Thank Christ you answered!"

"No, no, I'm fine. It's Bella ..."

"Something's wrong with her. I don't know wha ..."

"I don't know what's wrong, Dad!" he hissed clenching his hair with his free hand.

"No. I went to pick her up from her lawyers office at 3.30 like we arranged and she was in the bathroom having some type of fucking breakdown," he half sobbed into the phone.

_'Is that what happened; **is** happening? Am I crazy? Am I having a breakdown?'_

"Yes, I've got her in the car with the heat blasting and she's had a few sips of water ..."

"No, she's not really saying much of anything. She's mumbling sometimes but I can't understand anything she's saying."

"No it's all garbled. Jesus, Dad, what's wrong with her?" I heard him say. His tone was terrified.

"Port Angeles Hospital?"

_'NO! Not the hospital. I didn't want to go to the hospital! I WANTED TO GO HOME!'_

I started crying and screaming. "I want to go home. Please, Edward, take me home?" I begged.

He was looking at me baffled, shaking his head and grimacing.

"Bella, sweetheart. I … I don't understand," he said with apology and stress in his voice.

I grabbed at Edward's arm squeezing with all of my strength and concentrated on saying one word clearly; on making my speech muscles form the sounds I needed to make, to _make_ Edward understand me.

"H … ho … home." I stuttered out at last, tears streaming from my eyes.

Understanding dawned on his face, but then his attention was drawn back to his father on the other end of the phone.

"Yes, Dad. She said she wants to go home."

"She doesn't want to go there! Shit, Dad, you heard her crying and screaming. The thought terrifies her."

"Okay."

"Yes. I can be there in forty minutes if I floor it and an hour or more if I can't."

"Alright."

"Yes."

He glanced at me.

"No."

"Dad, can you have Mom call Bella's social worker and cancel … make something up about why she can't make it. She's already late and …"

"Yes."

"I won't, Dad."

"See you soon," he said and he hung up.

Edward buckled his seat belt and put the car in gear, slamming out of the parking space in reverse and screeching his tires as he pushed the gear into drive and hit the accelerator.

"FUCK!" Edward snarled as he was stopped by traffic waiting to pay and exit the car park. He rapped his fingers against the steering wheel in an agitated staccato as we inched our way through the long queue to the exit. Edward was pressing on his horn impatiently trying to get the cars ahead to move faster. I wished he'd stop, it was hurting my head.

At last we were out of the mall car park and driving through the late afternoon traffic. I felt so tired and my eye lids were flickering. I was finding it hard to keep them open, so I stopped fighting and succumbed, letting myself drift off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: This chapter contains significant bad language (I think you know from whom). My apologies if it offends, but it wouldn't be Hydeward's POV without it. I also got my time, speed and distance measure wrong in the last chapter when I calculated how long it would take Edward to drive from Port Angeles to Forks. I've corrected it in this chapter and I've gone back and fixed it in the previous one as well. I've also decided to upgrade the rating on this story to M for language. There is more of the F word in here than I ever intended, but it fits with the way the story is going so I've decided not to change it. I don't think it will be M for sex. I'm not saying there won't be sex (eventually) it just won't be overly graphic. Remember, I'm not a doctor; I have no medical training; I don't even have a first aid certificate.

Chapter 7 – The Aftermath (Edwards POV)

My entire body was trembling in delayed reaction as I sped down highway 101 towards Forks with Bella unconscious beside me, or maybe she was asleep? I dunno which one it was and I figured it didn't make any fucking difference anyway because when she'd been awake she was a complete fucked up mess. It was better this way for her and for me! I was fucked up enough for both us and I didn't cope well for long in stressful situations.

I'd assured Dad I could be there in forty minutes if I floored it but it looked like it would take me a full hour or more to make the drive from Port Angeles. It had taken ten minutes to leave the car park and another ten minutes to drive through the late afternoon traffic in PA stopping at almost every set of traffic lights. I'd almost sobbed in relief when I came upon the entrance for highway 101, slamming my foot onto the accelerator to speed down the road at the maximum 70 miles per hour speed limit (112 km per hour).

I don't know for sure what the hell happened to her but from what her lawyer, Jenks and that idiot receptionist told me, she'd been in the bathroom crying and screaming for at least ten minutes before I got there. They'd both just stood around like fucking dickheads shuffling their feet with daft expressions on their face doing absolutely fucking nothing. Stupid useless fucking pricks!

When I'd found her, she'd been sitting on the bathroom floor in front of a toilet reeking of vomit and the acrid smell of bile, a portrait of inconsolable misery. Her face was scarlet from crying, and tears and snot were smeared all over her face and neck. She'd cried so much her eyes were nearly swollen shut and she'd been mumbling garbled nonsense that didn't sound like any language I'd ever heard. But one thing was absolutely clear to me – she was unequivocally relieved to see me.

Pity and understanding filled my heart as hideous memories of the events that led to my same condition flashed through my brain like a fast-forward film. For long seconds, I stared at her blindly, my entire body frozen in remembered pain, fear, guilt and remorse. I wanted to run and hide, but I couldn't … I wouldn't, not this time. Bella needed me.

I'd sighed her name and crouched down in front of her wiping the tears from her face with my thumb, viciously tamping down the instantaneous revulsion I felt to touching someone covered in their own bodily fluids. I pulled her into my arms and she'd burrowed into my chest wrapping her arms around me like I was her lifeline. I figured she'd be lying against my shirt and I'd throw it away later anyway, so I told myself it didn't matter.

I was so intent on soothing her, I didn't notice her clawing at my shirt buttons until I felt her hot face pressed against the sensitive skin of my chest. I'd cringed inwardly at the contact, stiffening momentarily in disgust, and I'm ashamed to admit it, a brief instance of inappropriate arousal.

I'd eventually gotten her off the floor when she'd calmed down a bit and her heart-wrenching wailing had subsided to sobs. I barked at the receptionist to get her some fucking water and I plucked some Kleenex from the box on the wash basin counter to wipe her face. I don't think Bella really comprehended everything that was going on around her. It seemed like she was shutting down and all I wanted to do was get her out of there and into the car where I could call Carlisle and find out what to do. Jenks was leading me out to the elevators telling me to let him know if he could be of any further assistance or if Bella needed anything. My mouth tightened and I wondered what he'd told her that was so fucking terrible she'd had a virtual breakdown in her lawyers office.

"What the FUCK happened to her? If you said anything to her ..." I'd hissed at him.

His chest had puffed up in offense and he stood straighter, his mouth a tight thin line of disapproval, his eyes flinty. "Mr Cullen, I assure you, that I only told her the contents of her parents Wills. We discussed her financial status and her forthcoming legal action."

"Well _something _obviously happened because FUCKING LOOK AT HER, MAN," I'd screamed softly at him; I didn't want to scare Bella. "SHIT. FUCK! Her reaction doesn't happen for no stinking reason," I'd told him, shaking my head. FUCKING DICKHEAD!

We had reached the bank of elevators, and Jenks pressed the call button for an express elevator to the car park before he responded to my implied accusation.

"We concluded our meeting and I went to get her mother's jewelery for her. She went to the bathroom to freshen up and when I came back to reception, Gianna told me that Bella was in the bathroom having some sort of … episode," he'd explained tautly.

"Who the _hell_ is Gianna?"

"My receptionist."

"That dumb bitch who didn't even go in there and try to help her," I'd screeched at him.

"Ahem, yes, well, I will be speaking with her about that, but you must understand Mr Cullen, that my employees personal safety must come first. If Gianna felt that Miss Swan was a danger to herself or to her, then Gianna had every right to stay outside," he'd told me piously.

I shook my head incredulously. "She _wasn't _a danger to anyone you stupid prick," I'd hissed at him. "She was grieving, not going on some fucking gun-toting rampage in the ladies toilet," I sighed, suddenly exhausted. I had an uncontrollable urge to fist my hair but I couldn't because my arms were full.

"Mr Cullen, I understand that you are concerned for Miss Swan, as am_ I_," he'd emphasized coldly, "but I _will not_ tolerate your offensive language or your attitude towards me. I will let it go this time because I can see that you are clearly concerned for Miss Swan's health, but I don't give second chances," he'd warned me quietly. "Are we clear, Mr Cullen?"

"Yes," I'd said through clenched teeth, then I found myself doing something I rarely ever did. I apologized … in a fashion. This was Bella's lawyer and she'd be pissed with me that I'd pissed him off. She needed him on her side.

I coughed. "You're right, I am concerned about, Bella."

He'd stared at me for a long moment then nodded, apparently satisfied. The doors to the elevator opened.

"Her belongings are in the bag Gianna gave you. Please call me or have one of your parent's call me with an update on her condition. Good day, Mr Cullen," he'd said and strode off down the corridor to his office.

I'd almost sprinted from the elevator when we arrived on the basement level where my car was parked under the mall and I had to prop Bella up against the car's front fender so I could pull the keys from my jeans pocket and unlock the doors. Her body had fallen forward to rest against mine like a rag doll, all floppy and unresponsive.

_'Shit! I hope she doesn't dent the Volvo. Wait, she weighs like three pounds you dipshit, remember. I'd have to wash it though and polish the duco. For the love of all that's Holy, man, STOP THINKING ABOUT YOUR FUCKING CAR!'_

I'd gotten her into the car and pleaded with her to drink some water. She seemed to be in some sort of dissociative state and I couldn't understand a word she was saying but she accepted a few sips and I was giddily relieved. I needed to call Carlisle and find out what to do. It was while I was rubbing her arms that I noticed how fucking cold she was.

'_Shit! She's going into shock. What the FUCK am I supposed to do?' _

"JESUS! You're bloody freezing," I'd told her not expecting a coherent response.

I'd panicked for a brief moment, then recalled that it was important to keep shock victims warm and hydrated so I turned the heat on high and coaxed her to sip some more water. I fumbled for my phone and scrolled through my contacts list for my dad's cell phone number and hit the speed-dial button.

"Come on, come on, ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE!"

"_Carlisle Cullen."_

"Dad, DAD! Thank Christ you answered!"

"_Edward! What's wrong? Are you in trouble?" he'd asked with alarm, reacting to my desperate greeting._

"No, no, I'm fine. It's Bella ..."

I heard him exhale in relief that I wasn't in any immediate danger or trouble before he cut me off already in doctor mode.

"_What is it, son?"_

"Something's wrong with her. I don't know wha ..."

"_Is she injured?" he asked, cutting me off again. I wish he'd fucking stop it!_

"I don't know what's wrong, Dad," I'd said with a sob.

"_It's okay, Edward. Stay calm; I'll help you. So, she's not injured?"_

"No. I went to pick her up from her lawyers office at 3.30 like we arranged and she was in the bathroom having some type of fucking breakdown."

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the phone and I knew my father was considering what might have happened and what our immediate options were. I could hear paper shuffling over the phone line as though he was looking for something.

"_Is she breathing, Edward? Are you keeping her warm and hydrated, like I taught you?"_

"Yes, I've got her in the car with the heat blasting and she's had a few sips of water ..."

"_Is she conscious, Edward; is she speaking or reacting to stimuli?" he'd interrupted me again._

"No, she's not really saying much of anything. She's mumbling sometimes but I can't understand anything she's saying."

There was another long pause. _"Edward, could she have ingested any drugs or hit her head that might explain her condition? Is she able to communicate with you verbally at all?"_

"No, it's all garbled. Jesus, Dad, what's wrong with her?" I'd yelled, terrified.

"_Keep calm, Edward. I won't know with certainty until I examine her, but I believe that Bella is in the midst of some sort of post-traumatic reaction. I want you to take her to Port Angeles Hospital and ask for Doctor Snow and I will meet you there in an hour."_

"Port Angeles Hospital?" I'd repeated, silently questioning my dad's sanity. Why would I take her there when he was available.

Bella had started crying and screaming. She was babbling something at me while she clutched at my arm but I couldn't understand one word she was saying. It was like I was listening to a toddler speaking.

"Bella, sweetheart. I … I don't understand," I'd told her shaking my head. I wanted to help this girl who was slowly worming her way beneath the surface of my fuckery, but I felt useless that I didn't know how.

"_Edward? Edward, what's happening?" Dad yelled down the phone in alarm. "Answer me, Edward. EDWARD? Talk to me, Son. Let me know what's going on!" I could hear my dad pleading with me, but my entire concentration was focused on Bella._

"H … ho … home," she'd stuttered out at last, tears streaming from her eyes. She collapsed back against the seat and closed her eyes in exhaustion.

"_EDWARD?" my dad yelled at me down the phone. "Did she say she wanted to go home. Did I hear that correctly?"_

"Yes, Dad. She said she wants to go home."

"_I really think that it would be better to take her to PA Hospital. I want Doctor Snow to assess her as soon as possible and she probably needs more fluids ..."_

I cut my dad off mid-sentence. _'Now there's a change.'_ Doctor Snow was a shrink friend of my father's who moonlighted at VRC. I knew what Dad was thinking; it was they same thing he'd thought about me a long time ago and I wasn't letting him book her into the funny-farm. Not on my fucking watch!

"She doesn't want to go there! Shit, Dad, you heard her crying and screaming. The thought terrifies her."

There was another long pause on the phone. I could visualize my dad mentally listing the pros and cons of PA Hospital and the psych unit at VRC versus Forks and his skill as an emergency room doctor with a locked drug cabinet in his home office and a prescription pad.

"_Alright, Edward," he'd sighed. "I will allow you to bring her home, but you need to remain calm, do you understand me?"_

"Okay," I'd whimpered in relief.

"_Are you ready to leave Port Angeles now?"_

"Yes. I can be there in forty minutes if I floor it and an hour or so if I can't."

"_I don't want you to take any chances while you're driving, Edward," he'd said firmly. "You won't help her if you get in a crash or you get pulled over by the highway police for speeding. You keep your eyes on the road and you stick to the speed limit and I'll be waiting for you at home."_

"Alright."

"_Edward?"_

"Yes."

"_I'm proud of you, Son. You've done well." He coughed and I swallowed both of us emotional, recognizing the break-through I'd made. "Is Bella still crying?" he'd asked finally._

I glanced at her. She seemed to be resting with her eyes closed. There were a few tears clogging her lashes but she wasn't wailing any more.

"No."

"_Good. I'll see you in about an hour."_

I noted the time on the dashboard clock and suddenly recalled Bella's last appointment for the day.

"Dad, can you have Mom call Bella's social worker and cancel … make something up about why she can't make it. She's already late and …"

"_I'll take care of it. Edward, does her lawyer know about …?"_

"Yes," I'd gritted out.

"_I'll take care of that too. Don't speed," he'd reminded me._

"I won't, Dad," I promised, rolling my eyes (how soon _that _promise was broken).

"_Bring her to the house Edward and stop at the front door. I'll be waiting there." _

"See you soon," I'd said and hung up, throwing the phone into the center console before buckling my seat belt and pushing the gear into reverse.

The traffic getting out of the car park was a nightmare. Every damned prick and his bitch had obviously picked Wednesday to go shopping but why they had to pick this FUCKING mall, I'll never know. It took ten interminable minutes and repeated horn blowing (which got me verbal abuse and five separate _fuck-off_ fingers in response) but I eventually got to the start of the queue. I paid the fee and turned onto the road right into endless FUCKING traffic – bumper to bumper at each set of lights.

FUCK. MY. LIFE!

Once I'd gotten onto the highway, I was able to drive at a steady pace, even five to ten miles above the speed limit on the straight stretches where the traffic was faster. Thankfully, I hadn't seen any highway patrols. If I was clocked by a speed camera, I could lose my license but I wouldn't worry about that now. Dad would be pissed at me, but maybe he could pull some strings with the Forks Police Chief, Sam Uley to have any possible fines suppressed or at least make sure I didn't lose my license.

I made it to Forks in forty minutes; sixty-five minutes after hanging up the phone with my dad. It felt like the longest drive I'd ever made in my life even though forty minutes between PA and Forks was the fastest I'd ever driven it. I had to drop my speed when I entered the Forks city limits but thankfully the traffic was light, unlike Port Angeles so I was able to drive through town quickly and onto the road leading to my home.

My dad was waiting at the bottom of the front steps when I brought my car to a screeching halt. My mom was pacing up and down the length of the porch, wringing her hands and tugging anxiously at her long hair. She sprinted down the steps after my dad as he come over to the car and he was opening the door before I'd even fully stopped.

I disengaged Bella's seat belt as my dad reached into the car to check Bella's pulse and pupils.

"How was she on the drive?"

"Quiet. Is … is she asleep? I asked anxiously.

"Unconscious. I need to get her inside," he said.

I climbed from behind the wheel and came around to help my father lift Bella from the car. Now that she was unconscious rather than awake and distraught, she was a dead weight but I lifted her from the front seat of my Volvo like she was precious cargo and followed my parent's into the house.

…

The next few hours were eternal.

My dad examined Bella and determined that her unconsciousness was temporary and a result of low blood sugar following the emotional trauma, her spewing and subsequent shock.

"Esme, can you go and get a wash-cloth and bring it back here please. We need to try and bring her around." Mom raced out of Dad's office to the linen closet in the laundry. "Edward, go into the kitchen and get some apple juice. If there isn't any, then bring back some orange juice or some coke."

"She doesn't like coke," I said absurdly. I remembered her telling Rosalie on Saturday when I was in the laundry.

"It doesn't matter, Edward," Dad said calmly. "I need to get some sugar into her, but juice is better," he confirmed.

I nodded dumbly at him and raced from the room, almost knocking my mom over as she returned with a stack of wash clothes and a towel. I could hear Dad telling my mom to wet a cloth with cold water and to wipe Bella's face.

I skidded into the kitchen from the hallway and knocked over a chair at the kitchen table, tangling my feet in its wooden legs. It crashed to the ground and took me with it. I sprawled on my hands and knees, my palms smarting from their contact with the hard tiled floor.

"FUCK!"

I pushed myself to my feet, panting and disorientated.

'_What the FUCK was I supposed to do in here?' I thought, fisting and tugging at my hair. 'Crap! JUICE. That's it! Bella needs juice!'_

I dove for the fridge and pulled the door open. For the first time since I could remember, it was full of food and I couldn't find the fucking juice. I laughed like a lunatic because I didn't know what to do.

"FUUUCCKK!" I yelled.

_'Where the fuck is the fucking juice?' _

I started pulling packets and bottles from the fridge throwing them haphazardly onto the counter. I found it at the back of the top shelf behind the bloody coke. I grabbed it and sprinted from the kitchen not caring that half the fridge contents was sitting out on the bench and I'd left the door wide open. I skidded to a stop just beyond the kitchen door and knocked myself in the head with the plastic jug.

"Stupid! Stupid!"

_'You stupid shithead. What? Do you expect an unconscious girl to take a swig from a gallon bottle. Use some commonsense, dickhead.'_

I raced back to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cupboard, then put it back in favor of a plastic one. When I got back to Dad's office, Mom had cleaned up Bella's face and neck and a cold compress was folded across her forehead. Bella was moaning and wriggling around on the bed and Dad was checking her blood-pressure.

"Here it is, Dad," I panted. "Is she waking up?"

"Yes. Pour a half glass of juice, Edward and then help her to sit up a bit so she doesn't choke," he told me.

I did as he said handing the cup to Mom who handed it to Dad to feed to Bella when I had her reclining in my arms.

"Open your mouth, Bella," said my dad with the cup to her lips.

Bella brought her hand up to push it away mewling like a kitten, spilling some of it on her already soiled clothing.

"Hmmm, Hhhmmm," she whimpered pathetically.

I took hold of her hand to keep her from interfering and begged her to open her mouth.

"Open your mouth, Bella. Come on, open your mouth and drink some juice."

"Noooo," she moaned. Well, at least she was making verbal sense again.

"YES!" I ordered her. "Open your fricking mouth, Bella and drink!"

I didn't swear too much at her, I got the feeling on Saturday, that she really didn't like it. That didn't mean that I wouldn't swear at other people when they did something fucking moronic; I just wouldn't swear at her. I mean, I probably would because I'm a right prick sometimes, but I wouldn't say 'fuck' to her and especially not now.

"Take it easy, Edward," Dad warned me touching my hand holding hers. "Speak to her calmly so she feels secure in waking up. She's going to be confused for awhile and in an altered mental state until we get her blood sugar stable and find out what happened. You don't want to frighten her ..."

My mouth tightened but I did as he said crooning softly too her and dropping kisses onto her temple. Her skin was no longer hot and clammy and she'd stopped shivering in the car on the drive home.

"Bella, please open your mouth. You need to drink something, okay. I want you to drink something. Do it for me, please," I whispered near her ear.

At last, she moaned again and opened her mouth a little so Dad could give her tiny sips of apple juice. It was only enough to moisten her mouth but she coughed at first and tried to push it away again. I lifted her so she was sitting up a little higher and Dad tried again. She licked her lips as the sweet liquid flowed into her dry mouth and Dad slowly fed her the entire contents until she started to come around a bit more. I could see her eyes moving beneath her delicate lids and she was licking at her dry lips.

"Esme, a bit more, please. About another half a glass."

Mom poured the juice and Dad brought it to Bella's mouth again but this time she drank it down eagerly and didn't push it away. When she'd finished the second cup she was blinking rapidly and her eyes opened fully. She look confused and drowsy.

"Wha … what happened? Where am I?" she asked hoarsely.

"Shssh, we're at home, Bella. It's okay. I'm here with you and so are Dad and Mom," I cooed kissing her temple again. _'I fucking cooed at her. Cooed! What am I? A bird?' _

"Are you feeling better, Bella," my dad asked her placing the empty plastic cup on his desk.

"Um, y…yes, um, not really. I have a headache and my stomach hurts."

"Do you know what happened, Bella?"

She stiffened in my arms for a moment and her eyes teared up. I thought she was going to start wailing once more. I don't think I could cope with it again.

"Shssh, Bella," I crooned to her. "It's okay. You're fine now. Can you tell us what happened?" _'Shit! Now I was crooning. Cooing and crooning!'_

She sniffed and said quietly, "My parents are dead."

Dad and Mom looked at each other and I looked at them both.

My mom took Bella's free hand and held it between her own rubbing her thumbs over the back of Bella's fingers.

"Yes, Honey, they are … but you know that," she said gently.

"Yes, but it all just became real to me, you know," Bella said still sniffling. I wiped her eyes with a facial tissue my dad handed me.

"What do you mean, Sweetheart?" Mom asked her softly, still stroking her hands.

"Jenks … my lawyer, Jenks … he was telling me what was in my Mom and Phil's and Dad's Wills and I just lost it afterward. I mean, so much has happened to me over the months, that I didn't really get it. It wasn't real to me until Jenks started rattling off their assets and what I'd inherited."

Bella turned on her side and snuggled into my arms resting her head against my stomach. I held her tightly and rubbed my hands along her upper-most arm. She felt a little cool to me and I wanted to get her into bed. _'I **mean** put her to bed, not **get** into bed with her … Oh, shit! You know what I mean.'_

Dad was taking her blood-pressure again and her pulse, making some remarks on a chart he had on his rolling medical instrument table. He checked her pupils again and nodded, satisfied that she was no longer in an altered state and gave her some more juice to drink.

"How bad is your headache, Bella?" Dad asked.

"Thumping."

"Did you vomit?"

"Yes?"

"Food and bile?"

"Yes."

"How many times?"

"Twice, but each time I was retching repeatedly."

"Okay. I want to check your mouth and throat. Can you sit up for me?"

I helped Bella to sit up until she was upright with her legs dangling over the side of the exam table. She opened her mouth wide when Dad brought over an instrument that would allow him to inspect her throat for damage caused by the acid burns from the bile.

"You have a little bit of redness and your throat might be sore for a few hours, but you haven't done any permanent damage. Do you think you can swallow some medication for your headache and I want to give you a mild sedative as well if you're okay with that?"

"What will it do?"

"It will help you fall asleep, but it's mild and it won't keep you asleep if you want or need to wake up," Dad told her.

I tugged at my hair and wondered if he'd give me some as well.

"Um, okay but can I have a bath first? I feel kinda grotty."

"Sure, Bella but not too hot, okay and I don't want you staying in there for too long or on your own either."

"I'll stay with her," my mom offered.

Dad handed Bella two headache pills and she took them with the juice she still held. She grimaced and held her painful throat when she swallowed.

"Edward, you can take her upstairs, then I _want_ you to come back here, okay," Dad said, pointedly emphasizing that it wasn't a request.

I nodded and picked Bella up in my arms, striding down the hallway to the elevator in the laundry. My mom stayed behind for a few moments and I turned my head slightly to see my dad saying something insistently to my mother. By the time I got to the laundry, Mom had caught up with us but she didn't say anything and I didn't ask.

…

I was sitting on the sofa in the den with my head in my hands. It was times like these I wish I was old enough to drink. My mom had shooed me out of Bella's room and told me I could come back later after she'd bathed and was tucked up in bed. I need to go and see my father but I just wanted to rest alone for a moment.

The day had been going so well. I had been getting to know Bella, mostly due to her insistence and I'd held her hand and kissed her cheek. Okay, the hand holding was the best way of making sure Aro didn't grab her hand again, and putting my arm around her shoulder at the restaurant was the only thing I could think of to stop that cow Jessica Stanley from touching me, but the kiss to her cheek; what excuse did I have for that? None. I'd done it because I liked her and I wanted to.

She was so beautiful. I could look at her face forever. I sighed.

She was obviously smart because she was starting eleventh grade with me, Jasper and Alice in the Fall and she wasn't even sixteen yet. She was a shit-hot cook as well. That apple and blackberry pie she'd made was even better than my grandmother's and it had been her recipe. She was funny in a snarky kinda way; her comment to Jessica Stanley about being kicked out of Florida for not being tanned was hilarious except the bitch was too dumb to get it. Bella was artistic too, like me, except instead of drawing she was a photographer and she liked listening to classical piano music.

We had a lot in common and it wasn't only the things I'd just mentioned. There were other deeper, darker things I was certain we had in common but we both put on a face for the world that said that everything was alright and to leave us the fuck alone. I thought I might be developing feelings for her and I didn't want to. Having a girl to screw was one thing, but a _real_ girlfriend, someone I actually cared about was another thing altogether.

I'd broken up with Lauren Mallory in April when she moved to New York and I wasn't sorry to see her go. She was just as much of a cow as Jessica, maybe even more so. I don't know what I was thinking going with her.

_'Yeah, that's right, I wasn't thinking, not with my brain anyway; I was thinking with my dick.' _

Lauren would put out and she was clean, although I didn't take any chances. I always used protection and I didn't entirely trust that she wasn't rooting around behind my back with some of the older guys at school. I'd been a virgin before I started dating her and she was a girl with experience – I reckon she was getting what she didn't always achieve with me, from them. But I'd needed something from her that I wasn't getting from anyone or anywhere else. I needed to lose myself and she wanted to be Edward Cullen's girlfriend. We'd used each other.

When she left, I found what I needed, what was missing from my life in the piano again. It happened by accident. I was at a music store in PA looking for some new CD's and there was a gorgeous baby grand piano on display on a dais in the middle of the store. I was entranced. It was so shiny and the keys were whispering to me to come over and stroke them, to play them. I found myself pulled towards it as though by an invisible cord and I was unable to resist. I sat down on the piano bench and placed my hands on the keys and I played for the first time in six years. I can't even remember which composition it was, but it was as though I had never stopped. My mind recalled the notes and my fingers remembered how to play them.

When I finished, tears were streaming down my face and there was thunderous applause from the crowd that had gathered in the store. The owner told me that people had come in off the street to hear me play. He offered me a job playing piano as a sales technique but I declined. My feelings were too raw to play for an audience every day. It was a couple of weeks after that, that I went to the college and asked them if I could play their piano when it wasn't being used. The musical director wanted to say no, but I begged him to listen to me play and if he still thought I was shit I would leave without complaint. After I finished, he told me to come play anytime I wanted and to consider enrolling in a music program when I graduated high school.

"Edward?" my dad called softly from the doorway to the den.

"Huh," I said, startled and I looked up.

"We need to talk, Edward about what happened today," he said coming into the den. He sat in a wing chair opposite the sofa and crossed his legs.

"Huh. Okay. Um, where are the others?"

"They went to Bella's house today to do some yard work; they wanted to surprise her. Your mother rang Emmett and told him to take Rosalie and Jasper out for pizza. Alice is upstairs in her room. I asked her not to crowd Bella."

"Oh," I gulped. "Okay."

"Edward, what do you know about Bella's medical condition?"

I blinked. I hadn't expected that!

"Um, not much. I know what you told us before she came to stay here and I heard ..."

"You heard what, Edward?"

I swallowed. "I heard you and Mom talking about Bella's therapy."

"So you know she has speech therapy as well as physical therapy for her leg?"

"Yes, but that's all. I don't know why. I don't even know what's wrong with her leg."

Dad nodded thoughtfully and he was quiet for a few minutes, obviously thinking.

"Have you noticed that Bella has trouble speaking sometimes?"

"Um, yes. She stutters sometimes and this afternoon I couldn't understand a word she was saying. It was like garbled nonsense," I told him. I recalled this morning by the garage as well and I told my dad about it.

Dad sighed. "Edward, what I'm about to tell you is highly confidential. I could lose my medical license for it, do you understand? You can't tell anyone else what I am about to disclose to you."

I nodded slowly.

"When Bella was in the car crash last September, both her mother and her step-father were killed."

"Yes, I know that. You told us that before."

"Yes, but I what I didn't tell you, is they didn't die straight away and Bella was conscious the whole time she was trapped in the car."

I gulped. "How … how long was she there for?" I whispered.

"Three hours," my dad said carefully, watching me closely.

"Oh," I whispered.

"What you also don't know is that Bella's left leg was partially severed in the accident. When the vehicle she was in was hit by the other car, it collided with the passenger side where her mother was sitting in the front seat. Bella was sitting behind the drivers seat. The most serious damage to the car was to the front section which is why her parents suffered fatal injuries but when the car she was in was pushed into a stationary truck the impact caused the rear passenger door to buckle snapping the steel door frame. The impact with the car that hit them and the truck they hit caused Bella to bounce around in her seat and because the car was crushed she was virtually sitting sideways with her back against her door. A piece of the shattered frame lodged inside the the car and sliced through the back of her leg below the knee.

"Fucking hell," I whispered horrified.

"Yes. She nearly bled to death like her parent's did but the paramedics managed to staunch the bleeding and transfuse her at the accident site. It took the rescue workers hours to cut her from the mangled wrecks."

"Is her leg okay?" I whispered.

"Yes. It was repaired and she is making fine progress in regaining mobility and muscle tone. She may not ever have a full range of movement but her leg is the least of her problems."

_'FUCK! What else was there?'_

I said as much to my dad.

"What you witnessed this afternoon is a direct result of other more serious injuries she sustained in the crash although these injuries were not immediately noticeable. If they had been, some of the damage might have been prevented."

"What is it?" I whispered again.

"Bella sustained a TBI following the crash when two subdural hematomas formed on her brain."

"_What?_ Dad, use fucking English for fucks sake!" I hissed at him.

"Watch your language, Edward, but I get your point."

"A TBI means traumatic brain injury or in layman's terms, brain damage and a hematoma is a blood clot."

_'Motherfu...! JESUS CHRIST ALL MIGHTY!'_

"But she seems fine. She doesn't act like she's got brain damage," I said to my dad weakly.

"And you'd know if someone had brain damage would you, Edward?" said my dad pointedly. "You didn't know about Bella."

"Point taken," I sighed fisting my hair.

"The TBI effected her speech center. When she came out of the coma ..."

_'FUCK! She was in a coma too?'_ _I must have said it out loud because dad cocked a brow at me._

"Yes, she was. For thirty-three days. When she woke up she couldn't speak at all. I imagine it was rather like what you witnessed today. She has spent eight months in intensive therapy learning to speak again and most of the time you'd never notice. But when she's very tired, or nervous or stressed or _distressed_ like she was today, her speech is effected because speech requires the brain to tell the speech muscles how to form the sounds and words. When the brain is stressed, it sometimes doesn't function as well as it would in normal circumstances."

I swallowed hard and I felt sick. I could really do with that drink!

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because I see a connection between the two of you and I think you can help each other. The trouble is, neither of you is very forthcoming with your feelings. I hoped, _hope_, that knowing about what she went through and relating it to your own history might help you overcome your own demons and in turn you can help Bella to conquer hers."

I gulped again and gagged. My dad stood up and came to sit beside me on the sofa putting his arm around my shoulders. I stiffened and tears leaked from my tightly closed eyes. I didn't want to do this!

"It's time, Edward. It's been six years. You need to let it go and put the past behind you. You need to let yourself heal, Edward. It wasn't your fault, Son. It wasn't _your_ fault."

My dad pulled me into his arms and I cried like a baby against his chest. He rubbed my back and kissed my hair while I howled out my own grief. I heard footsteps walking up the corridor and I saw my mom standing at the door through my blurry vision. Her arms were wrapped around her body and she was crying with me, for me, for him.

She rushed over to me and sat on my other side, wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly.

…

A/N: I do not advocate speeding on the road. Everyone should stick to the speed limit. I also do not advocate the breaking of doctor/patient confidentiality in any way.

Check out my blog for photographs relating to the chapters. The direct link is on my profile page.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 8 – The Meadow

I was lying on the grass in the Cullen's massive backyard basking in the sun while I still had the chance. Rosalie told me over breakfast not to get used to it and to enjoy it while it lasted which wouldn't be for much longer. Esme had given me a soft argyle blanket to lie on and I grabbed a throw cushion off the porch furniture to rest my head on while I read my book.

I was reading Pride and Prejudice for like the millionth time simply because I loved it. The copy I had was literally falling to pieces in my hands as I turned the pages. I could have bought a new one and I daresay I probably will, but my dad had given me this copy for my eleventh birthday so I was kinda attached to it. I've always loved reading and I've got a small library of books packed away in storage in Florida. I gasped in horror for a moment.

_'Shit! I hope I still do.'_

My books had been crammed into a bookcase in my Jacksonville bedroom and the overflow had been stuffed into a case in the living room. I wasn't all that concerned about the overflow because they were my least favorite volumes, but the ones in my bedroom, those were important to me. I only had P&P with me because it had been in my bag in the car that night. I made a mental note to call Jenks and ask him. I needed to call and apologize or at least explain to him anyway.

I absentmindedly stroked the blanket with my free hand as my other held the book I was reading close to my face – I _really_ needed to see about getting those glasses. I was dressed in a white tank top and a pair of denim cut-off shorts, the exact ones that Carlisle ruined when he'd sliced them open from my ankle to my knee. Waste-not want-not, that was my motto even though Alice was horrified that I was recycling clothes. Honestly, that girl wouldn't know thrifty if it hit her in the head.

Now Esme on the other hand, her knack for re-use was the stuff of legends. When she'd handed me the blanket earlier this morning, I burst into peals of laughter. Esme had collected all of Carlisle's old socks and turned them into an argyle quilted blanket. Edward of course, refused to lie on it she told me and Alice couldn't understand why her mom would even bother. But I thought it was hilarious and kinda romantic.

It was Saturday again and between twisting my knee last Saturday and my little 'breakdown' on Wednesday, I hadn't gotten much done. Call it what you want: a breakdown, an episode, post-traumatic stress, it really came down to one thing – I'd lost the plot! _Big time!_ I felt like a fool for carrying-on the way I did, but Esme told me not to be ridiculous and Edward just shook his head in a 'don't be bloody stupid' gesture.

Carlisle wanted me to see _someone_ (translation: shrink) to talk about my feelings. He didn't name them but I knew what he meant because I'd Googled it. He'd meant my feelings of abandonment and guilt. I'd shaken my head and told him categorically I didn't want to. I'd already spoken to psychologists aplenty while I was recovering in Florida and I was fed up talking about the crash, my recovery and how I felt since the accident.

The trouble is, I don't know how I _feel _now. Before Wednesday, I thought I had a handle on it; what I'd lost, but talking to Jenks about my inheritance and the trust fund and what I was worth, it all became too much for me.

I sighed and laid my book aside – I'd read the same paragraph five times in the last ten minutes – and rolled over onto my stomach to get some sun on the back of my legs and shoulders.

I thought I'd come to terms with their deaths and I'd said my goodbyes to them the night they died. In hindsight, the doctors were probably right and given the events of last Wednesday I realize that I'm _not_ fine and I _did_ feel abandoned and guilty about surviving when they didn't, but other than going to more therapy, I didn't know what else to do about it.

I don't remember much of what happened after my breakdown in the ladies bathroom but from what Carlisle had told me, Edward looked after me and brought me home. He was there in Carlisle's office when I woke up and he carried me up to bed again when his dad released me. It was becoming a habit – Edward carrying me off to my bedroom – and I'm embarrassed to admit, I'm rather enjoying it. Even thinking about it, is making me blush.

Esme helped me into bed following my supervised bath and physically I felt a whole lot better. I'd been a little self-conscious with Esme watching me bathe but she'd been great about it, sitting on the closed toilet and chatting about her day with Alice, ignoring my nakedness and the pink elephant filling the room. She told me that Alice had the makings of a great interior designer if she could only convince her to be a little more tactful. I only chuckled hoarsely and asked her what happened.

Apparently, Alice told the Port Angeles doyenne, that _"red linoleum and acid green wallpaper was an appalling choice unless she was planning on decorating Santa's emporium."_ I laughed. Esme told me she spat coffee all over the architects plans and the doyenne waddled away in high dudgeon. Esme ran after her to do damage control and Alice was made to apologize. The doyenne had glared at them both, then proceeded to select different flooring which Alice had given her nod of approval.

When Edward eventually came to see me I'd been asleep for a couple of hours after taking Carlisle's sedative, but I woke easily at the first sound of his knock on my door. He came in with a teapot of peppermint tea which was fast becoming a favorite of mine and a small glass dish of hard sugar candy. He told me I should suck on one if I felt myself feeling woozy since I hadn't eaten anything and, _"you know, because of the spewing."_ I thanked him shyly, flushing hotly at the reminder and sipped at the cup of tea he poured me.

Edward was silent as he shuffled his feet awkwardly, looking intently at the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the window, the chair – everything except me. I noticed his eyes were overly bright and his face was splotchy like he'd been crying. I started to get nervous and my hands trembled; I could feel my mouth fill with saliva again, preparing to vomit. I fought down the urge by breathing deeply and sipping more tea and tried to thank Edward for looking after me, but he wouldn't engage in the conversation. I sighed and he said he had to go to bed as he had to get up really early the next morning. I looked at the bedside clock; it was 9 pm – I figured he just didn't want to be around me.

I slept badly after Edward left and he avoided me like the plague on Thursday and Friday. Did he regret saving me? I caught Carlisle watching him thoughtfully sometimes and every now and then he'd sigh and shake his head. Esme just smiled tentatively and told me that Edward would come around, that I shouldn't take it personally. Have you ever noticed how hard it is not to take something personally, whenever somebody tells you _not_ to take it personally. I took it personally!

I found out from Jasper on Thursday that he and Emmett and Rosalie had spent Wednesday at my house hauling away junk from the yard and mowing the grass. I was equal parts grateful and resentful and my face must have expressed my feelings because Jasper said he was sorry if they'd upset me. I told him it was fine; that I was strongly attached to my house because of my dad but I appreciated their efforts. I found myself confessing to him that the the house was the only thing of Charlie's I had, that was a tangible reminder of his existence.

Jasper smiled knowingly and told me that he felt the same way about his family home in Dallas. I blinked in surprise because he'd unwittingly given me an opening to learn his own story. I bit my lip in indecision and twisted my fingers, nervous about how he might react if I simply came right out and asked him. Jasper had absolutely no problem with answering my questions and he even opened the conversation by asking _me_ what was wrong when he noticed my slight agitation.

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong," I assured him quickly. "Um, I was just wondering and you don't have to tell me," he smiled crookedly at my nervousness, "but I was just wondering how you came to join the Cullen family?"

He was silent for a moment, contemplating my question. "You and I, Little Darlin' we have a lot in common," he drawled, deliberately accentuating his Texas twang.

I giggled and blushed madly. He didn't always speak with an accent, but when he did it was sexy as all get-out and caused tiny shivers to ruffle along my spine. He winked at me and I gasped.

_'He knew! He knew how his accent effected me. Shoot! Now, I'd have to confess to Alice.'_

"I came to the Cullen's two years ago after my father died in Afghanistan, leaving me orphaned," he revealed in his calming voice.

I swallowed. "Oh."

"My father, Major Jackson Whitlock, US Marines was killed in a helicopter when it was shot down by enemy fire. My dad was a pilot and he and his crew were returning to base following a routine reconnaissance mission. The helicopter was fired upon; he tried to evade and they were fired upon again. They returned fire, then took a direct hit from a rocket launcher and dropped from the sky like a stone. The helicopter exploded on impact with the ground. There were no survivors," he stated quietly.

I didn't know what to say, except for the ubiquitous and useless, "I'm sorry for your loss, Jasper."

"Thank you, Bella," he said, "I know you understand what it's like to lose a parent in such awful circumstances."

"Yes," I agreed looking down as I drew random patterns on the table with my finger. "Um, where were you while your dad was overseas?" I asked curiously. If Jasper was living with the Cullen's, there was more to his story than the unfortunate death of his father.

"I was at boarding school; it was the only way Dad was able to join his squadron in Afghanistan because he had no living family … and my mother died when I was in elementary school."

"So, did you stay at boarding school after your father died?"

"No. I became a ward of the state at thirteen and was placed into foster care in Dallas."

"Your mother's family …?" I trailed off.

Jasper shook his head. "Both of my parents were only children, Bella, and my father's parents died when he was a teenager. My mother's parents were too old to take on another child they said, especially a young teenager and they signed away all familial rights to me."

"Your … your grandparents didn't _want_ you?" I whispered, appalled.

He shook his head. "No," he said simply.

"So when and how did you meet the Cullen's," I asked him curiously. I had the feeling there was more to his story but he didn't elaborate and I respected his right to privacy. I knew he must have been around fifteen when he did meet them because he's been in Forks for two years and he'd turned seventeen in April.

He chuckled. "My meeting them was serendipitous actually. My foster family were moving to Colorado and I didn't want to go with them. Child Welfare were looking for a new situation for me and it just fell into place like it was destined to happen."

"Carlisle came to Dallas for a medical conference and Esme and Alice came with him. I met Alice in the park near their hotel where we were both buying drinks from a coffee cart and she literally ran right into me, spilling her iced-tea all over us. We clicked instantly," he related with another chuckle and a shake of his head. "She asked me where I'd been and why it took me so long to find her."

I chuckled with him. That _did_ sound like Alice.

"I was stunned that this pixie of a girl would walk right up to a complete stranger and say something like that to them. We talked for hours and before I knew it, she was taking my hand and leading me back to the hotel to meet her parents."

"How did the Cullen's …?"

"... come to foster me?" he finished my sentence.

I nodded.

"When I met Carlisle and Esme, they invited me to have dinner with them and Alice. My whole story came pouring out of me over the entree," he said scratching his head in remembered amazement. "To this day, I'm not sure why I did it, but I couldn't seem to help myself; it was like a compulsion. By the end of the conference, Carlisle and Esme had made arrangements with Child Welfare to foster me and when they left Dallas, I went with them. I took their name six months later."

"Wow," I said in admiration at how big the Cullen's hearts were.

"So, your childhood home is in Dallas?" I said.

"Yep. Like you, I take control of my inheritance from my dad when I turn eighteen."

"Will you go back?" I asked him tentatively, nibbling on my lip.

He pondered my question for a few moments. "I don't think so," he replied finally, "my life is here now, with the Cullen's and Alice – she won't want to be too far away from her parents," he told me.

My daydreaming was rudely interrupted by splashes of rain hitting my shoulders. I turned my head to the sky to see storm clouds rolling in rapidly from the west. Rosalie had been right – the nice weather was at an end, at least for today. I rolled to my feet and bent down to grab my book, the blanket and the cushion and hurried as fast as I could without running, toward the house. The splashes increased in magnitude and volume and I was soaking wet by the time I stepped onto the porch.

The temperature had dropped from a pleasantly balmy 70 degrees to a chillier 62 degrees in a matter of minutes and I shivered in my wet clothes and hair. I shrugged and decided to have a hot shower and do my laundry instead. I took my time in the shower washing my hair and letting the hot water flow over my body and warm me down to my bones. I dried off, rubbing some Bio-Oil into my scars then dressed in acid washed jeans teamed with a lavender sweater and slipped my feet into white ballet style flats.

I tended to go for flat or low heeled shoes even before I mangled my leg because frankly, it was safer for me and everyone around me. The last time I'd worn a pair of shoes with more than a one inch heel (at my freshman year dance) I'd tripped and fractured my ankle and broke three toes of the guy I was dancing with.

I pulled my damp hair into a high ponytail, then hauled the heavy washing bag carefully down the stairs to the laundry. I could have taken the elevator but walking on stairs was good exercise for my leg so I tried to use every opportunity. I didn't run into anyone else and I wondered absently where they all were.

The Cullen laundry was huge. It had two front-loader washers and three tumble-dryers plus a drying rack suspended from the ceiling. It was kitted out like a kitchen with built-in units, integrated appliances, a large sink with an industrial looking faucet, and, I kid you not, a marble counter. I've never enjoyed doing laundry so much in my life. I wondered if I could do something like this in my own house, on a smaller, less costly scale of course.

I was rooting around in the closet for some coat hangers when I found Edward's jacket. I'd forgotten all about it after I cleaned it and Alice hung it up for me. I fingered the supple leather and chewed on my lip, wavering back and forth whether to give it back to Edward myself or ask Alice to do it. It had been an offering of sorts, my repairing the jacket; an apology and an attempt at friendship. Our relationship had come a long way in such a short amount of time, but Edward was avoiding me now and I thought giving it back to him might be a new ice-breaker.

Before I could change my mind, I pulled the jacket from the closet and strode through the kitchen and up the stairs to the third floor. I could hear low music wafting from behind Edward's closed bedroom door so I knew he was in there. I lifted my hand to knock on his door, then dropped it again, suddenly nervous.

_'Come on, Bella, grow a pair. Put your big girl panties on and knock on his door. He's just a guy; It's Edward. You know his bark is worse than his bite.'_

The door opened abruptly after I knocked softly and Edward stood looming in the doorway with a scowl on his face.

"What?" he barked, then blinked when he realized it was me and not one of his siblings.

"Hi," I said with a nervous wave.

"Hi?" he replied, his tone quizzical.

"Um, I wanted to give this back to you," I told him, holding up the leather jacket.

Edward looked surprised. "I threw it away," he said dismissively.

"Yeah, I know … but I, um, fished it out of the trash and I fixed it for you. Here, take it," I said, holding it out to him.

He stared at it like it was toxic or something and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"It won't hurt you, Edward," I told him softly. "Look, I cleaned it for you," I said picking up the hem to show him. "I removed all of the gum and the water marks are gone."

"It's been in the trash," he scowled, focused only on where it had been and not what it was.

I sighed with an element of resignation that he was going to reject it. He was so fastidious about his appearance that the idea of wearing it again was abhorrent to him. I didn't know why Edward was so insecure, but I understood suddenly that he was. What did he think would happen if he allowed something to be imperfect? I _wanted_ him to take the jacket. He _needed_ to accept the jacket; it was important!

I cocked a brow and held it out to him again. Instead of taking it, he stood aside and invited me in with a wave of his arm. He still wouldn't touch the jacket but I'd never been inside his room before and I was curious about Edward's inner sanctum, so I went in. At least the jacket was back in his room again.

Edward's room was a surprise and yet not. It was the room of a mature man rather than a teenager but it suited him. It was painted in shades of taupe and gray and accents of brown with soft gray carpet and large scale pieces of furniture. There was a king sized bed made from some type of dark exotic timber in the center of the room and a comfortable sitting area by the windows which were draped in a striped masculine fabric. Two doors on the left side of the room led to what I assumed were his bathroom and closet.

I looked around with interest. His room was enormous and much larger than mine which was about half the size and decorated in feminine shades and fabrics. Everything in Edward's room seemed to have a purpose; there was no clutter, no clothes or books strewn about (other than the one he was reading) and not one speck of dust on any surface. It was almost unnaturally clean for a teenager. He had a study/media area that housed his laptop, TV, a stereo and his CD collection. His only concession to ornamentation was a sculptural piece in the sitting area and two large light fixtures hanging from the ceiling.

"I love your room," I told him with a smile. He'd been watching me and he seemed nervous like he was worried I wouldn't like it.

"Thanks," he said shyly. "Um, would you like to sit down," he asked, indicating the sitting area.

"Yes, but first, let me hang up your jacket. Which door's the closet," I said, in a tone that indicated I wasn't asking.

He swallowed. "The door on the right," he replied, somewhat meekly.

I shouldn't have been surprised by what lay beyond the door, but I was. It was a walk-in closet the size of my old bedroom in Charlies house. There were wall-to-wall drawers, shelves, cupboards and hanging rods that ran from floor to ceiling on all four walls. The carpet in the bedroom extended into the closet but what _really_ surprised me was the imitation lion-skin rug in the center of the floor.

I took the jacket off the hanger and draped it over a wooden dress form he had in the corner by his suits (a seventeen year-old with suits; go figure!). I smirked to myself slyly; if Edward wanted to use the dress form again, he'd have to touch the jacket to remove it.

_'Get out of that one, Eddie!'_

I nodded in satisfaction and almost bounced from his closet I was so pleased with myself.

"Please have a seat," he said, offering me the sofa shyly.

I sat down, sinking into the extremely comfortable upholstery and Edward sat on the armchair facing me resting a sneakered ankle on his opposite knee. We stared at each other, both of us clearing our throats self consciously. Trying to figure out Edward's moods was exhausting, I decided. He'd gone from brusque when he answered the door to suspicion over the jacket, anxiety that I wouldn't like his room and how shyness in talking to me. I wondered if he'd ever speak to me if I wasn't the one initiating the conversation first.

I waited and waited. I guess not!

"So, Edward, what have you been doing for the last couple of days? I haven't seen you around much …" I trailed off.

He shrugged and fiddled with the shoelaces on his runners. I watched his hands with fascination. I'd never noticed how long and slender his fingers were; they were the hands of a pianist.

"Thank you, Edward for taking care of me on Wednesday," I said sincerely. "I _wanted_ to thank you when you came to see me in my room that night, but you wouldn't talk to me. Do you regret helping me," I asked, not pulling any punches.

He stared at me, shocked. "What? NO! Of course not! Why would you say that?"

I was inwardly pleased by his reaction to my question.

"What else am I supposed to think, Edward. You've avoided me for two days now, three if we count today. Every time I come into a room, you leave as quickly as possible and you've hardly spoken two words to me."

He swallowed hard and said softly, "I thought you might be embarrassed because … you know, I saw you like that. So, um, I decided to give you some space," he told me looking over my shoulder.

I cocked my brows. I couldn't put my finger on why I didn't entirely believe him, but I didn't. There was something else other than my embarrassment (and I was embarrassed) but it wasn't his consideration for my feelings that was keeping him away from me.

"I thought you wanted me for a friend?" I said to him accusingly.

He stared at me, startled. "I do!"

"Are you sure, Edward, because friends talk to each other; they spend time together getting to know each other. So far, I've been the only one in this 'friendship' of ours (I emphasized 'friendship' with air quotes) who seems to be making any effort."

Edward looked pissy; he didn't like being called-out on his behavior.

"Fine," he bit out through clenched teeth, "let's spend some time together. What are you doing tomorrow?"

I almost swallowed my tongue I was so surprised.

"Nothing … yet."

"There's a place I go to sometimes to get away and think. It's on the eastern edge of our property. Will you go with me?" he asked, a touch of challenge in his voice.

I swallowed nervously or excitedly; I wasn't positive which emotion it was. "Sure, I'd like that."

"Good. We'll be leaving at 10 o'clock and it will take about thirty minutes to walk there, maybe a bit longer because of your leg. Wear jeans and comfortable shoes. You might want to bring a jacket as well; it's often cooler where we're going than here at the house."

I nodded in understanding. "I'll bring lunch," I offered. "Um, what exactly is this place we're going to?"

"It's a surprise. You'll just have to trust me, Bella. Isn't that what _friends_ do?" he smirked.

Touche!

…

I was dressed and ready to go at 9.30 the next morning. I was itching to get going, but knowing Edward, we wouldn't leave a minute earlier nor a minute later than the time he decreed. Our lunch was packed into a soft sided cooler bag in the fridge and my backpack was jammed with sunscreen, insect repellant, baby wipes (for hand cleaning) bottles of water, a thermos of coffee, my book and my camera. I included the new lens I bought as well, in case I had an opportunity to use it. Edward gave it back to me before I left his room yesterday afternoon; I'd completely forgotten about it until he mentioned it.

I spent the morning frying chicken and making potato salad, cooking enough for the rest of the family also. There was an enormous covered platter in the fridge with a note on it for Emmett's benefit ordering him to share. I was putting away the dishes I'd used when Edward entered the kitchen at precisely 9.50 laden down with an enormous backpack of the type used by backpackers on a European tour. I stared wide-eyed between his pack and mine and wondered what I'd forgotten because mine was so much smaller. Geez, did Edward think we were going camping in the mountains or something rather than to the other side of the property.

"Um, Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you forget to tell me something?" I asked, indicating his pack.

"Nope."

"Um, we're only going for the day, right?" I said, biting my lip.

"Yep."

Great. We're back to monosyllabic answers; I really had to remember about asking open-ended questions when speaking to Edward. I shrugged, figuring he was the puppy that would carry the pack so I decided not to worry about it.

"Do you have everything?" he asked brusquely.

"Yes, I think so," I replied guardedly. Was that a trick question?

"What do you have in this pack?" he said, hauling the bag across the counter and pulling the zipper open before I could stop him or answer his question.

"Hey!" I objected, making a grab for the pack, but he held it out of my reach.

"Have you ever been camping before?" he demanded.

"I thought you said we weren't going camping?" I huffed.

"We're not. Answer the question!" he ordered.

"No, I've never been camping," I sighed.

"Have you ever been on a nature walk, bush-walk, trail-walk; anything like that before?"

"No, Edward! Not unless walking the concrete jungle counts!" I said with narrowed eyes. He was pissing me off.

"I didn't think so," he said smugly.

I rolled my eyes.

He handed my backpack to me. "Tell what you've packed," he said firmly.

"_Oh, alright_!" I huffed."I have sunscreen, insect repellant, baby wipes, four bottles of water, a thermos of coffee, my book and my camera. There! Are you satisfied now!" I snarked.

"No!" he snarked back. "Where are your sunglasses; and you need a hat?"

"Don't have any," I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest.

Edward strode out of the kitchen down the hallway to the foyer.

"ALICE?" he yelled at the top of his voice, the sound reverberating around the foyer like someone speaking with a bull-horn. I jumped then cringed, startled.

"WHAT?"

"BELLA NEEDS SUNGLASSES AND A HAT!"

"OKAY, I'LL BE RIGHT DOWN!"

He strode back into the kitchen. Esme had come in from the porch where she'd been eating breakfast and reading the Sunday papers to glare at him with annoyance. She was not amused, as an old British Queen once said.

"Edward Dear, did we or did we not, install an intercom system to alleviate the yelling of voices up and down the stairs?" she asked him formally.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, "Sorry," he said, chagrined.

I sniggered softly. I kinda liked seeing Edward get pulled down a peg or two. Edward might speak his mind to most people, most of the time, but he didn't dare back-talk his mother. Esme turned to me and asked if I was looking forward to the day.

"I am actually," I said and I meant it. "Edward won't tell me where we're going other than it's on the eastern side of the property."

Esme grinned excitedly and her eyes lit up. "Oh, Bella. You're going to love it; it's so beautiful. It's my favorite place on the property after the house." Her attention returned to Edward. "Do you have enough supplies there, Edward?" she said dryly, but without surprise.

"Restocking," he mumbled, flushing.

I was slipping my backpack over my shoulders when Alice came running into the room with a baseball cap (that _can't _be hers!) and a chic pair of sunglasses.

"Here they are," she trilled, happily handing the items to Edward who slipped the glasses onto my face and pulled the hat on over my head, pulling my ponytail through the opening at the back. I shivered slightly at his touch on my face and neck. I think it was delight!

The kitchen clock chimed the hour. "Let's go," said Edward striding for the door looking like a mountaineer with his jeans, hiking boots and backpack. I rolled my eyes at how predictable he was when it came to punctuality. If you didn't have a clock or watch, just check Edward's schedule.

"Bye, have fun you two," caroled Esme and Alice.

I detoured to the fridge for the cool pack, then waved a hand as I followed Edward off the porch. He led me around the house in a north-easterly direction across the lawn to the edge of the woods. He'd slowed his pace, partly for me and my shorter legs and partly because of the load he carried. He stopped at a graded pathway into the trees.

"The path's wide enough for us to walk two abreast most of the time, but when it's not, I want you to walk in front of me where I can see you, okay?" he said sternly.

I nodded, eager to get going.

He stepped onto the path and I fell in beside him. We were quickly enveloped in dense woods of verdant green trees and shrubbery. The path was fairly flat and graded smooth from edge to edge. Who graded a woodland path on their own property that didn't lead to the pool, the shed or the garage? The thick canopy soon reduced the brightly shining sun to dappled light as we walked deeper into the woods. I could hear creatures scurrying through the undergrowth and if I'd been alone, I would have been scared witless, but with Edward I felt completely safe.

He didn't talk much on the walk except to warn me about an uneven place on the path or to point out a landmark of particular interest. I respected his need for verbal solitude and didn't try to engage him in conversation using the silence to take in my surroundings. We'd been walking about fifteen minutes when I began to perceive the sound of shallow babbling water.

"Is there a creek nearby?" I asked Edward, finally breaking the silence.

He turned to look at me and smiled. "Yes, a stream. It runs parallel to the place we're going to. It's about another ten minute walk once we cross."

"So, are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"No. You'll find out soon enough," he replied teasingly.

I wrinkled my nose at him and kept walking adjusting the strap of my backpack over my left shoulder. The buckle was digging into my collarbone making it ache slightly; it was the one I'd broken in the crash. A few minutes later, I saw the stream through the trees where they thinned out a little, then I stopped suddenly.

"Edward, look!" I whispered to him behind me and pointed into the clearing around the stream bank where it widened into a small deeper pool. A deer and her fawn were picking through the pebbles with their delicate hooves as they moved down the bank, sipping at the cool water. I felt around my neck frantically for my camera before I remembered it was in my backpack. _'Shoot, I want to take a picture!'_

"What are you looking for?" Edward whispered.

"My camera. It's in the top of my backpack. Will you get it for me?" I whispered back, bending slightly to drop the cooler bag onto the ground by my feet. I hoped desperately the deer wouldn't hear us or catch our scent and flee before I could capture their image.

Edward quickly and quietly unzipped the top of my pack and removed the camera reaching around my body with his right arm to hand it to me. He laid his left hand lightly on my shoulder and slipped his fingers under the buckle that was pressing on my collarbone, taking the pressure off the sore spot; he must have noticed my discomfort earlier. I could feel his warm breath on the back on my neck and smell his scent – musky, clean male and a cologne I'd smelled before and found utterly seductive. It was uniquely Edward and I think I would know his scent anywhere.

My hands trembled in delicious reaction to his scent and his nearness as I turned the camera on and flicked off the lens cap handing it to Edward. I swallowed nervously and held the camera up, finding the deer in the view screen and prepared to take some continuous shots in case they fled. Edward leaned over my shoulder so he could see the screen; he was so close to me and I thought my heart might have stuttered. Perspiration ran between my breasts and my respiration's increased in shallow pants of nervousness and attraction.

I turned my head a little so my lips were close to his but not quite touching. His mouth was beautiful; well shaped and pink and pouty and I wondered what it would feel like pressed against my own. I wanted to kiss him and find out, but I was scared suddenly – I've never kissed a boy before and I didn't want to scare him off, if I did it badly or he didn't want it. His emerald green eyes were like deep wells as they peered into mine quizzically and his thumb on my shoulder stroked gently, almost of its own volition. My finger quivered over the shutter release button.

"You'd better take your picture before they run away," he whispered, staring at my mouth.

I swallowed and pressed the shutter release button automatically. I had no idea where I was pointing the camera and suddenly I didn't even care what photo I was taking because I was totally captivated by Edward. The doe and her fawn fled suddenly either because they'd caught our scent or from some other perceived threat, but it served to break our enchantment of each other.

I coughed and turned my head forward self-consciously. Edward stepped back, exhaling audibly and sliding his hand from my shoulder. I mourned its loss.

"Um, we should go," he whispered. "It's this way," he indicated with his hand.

We walked beside each other silently, parallel to the stream for another hundred yards before coming upon a rustic wooden bridge that would allow us to cross without getting into the water. I smiled totally enthralled by the scene in front of me – it was like a fairytale garden. Edward led the way onto the bridge – the only time he'd walked in front of me – and reached out his left hand taking my right one in his to lead me forward. A zap of electricity shot through my palm, something I was getting used to every time Edward touched me.

I waited for him let go, but he didn't and I was all giddy inside. I really _really_ liked Edward Cullen and wondered where _we_ might be going. I wanted to ask him but I was afraid of ruining whatever _this_ was. We climbed a slight incline for a few minutes, that wasn't too hard on my my leg because of the wide steps cut into the pathway. It flattened out again at the top and a few hundred yards later, Edward slowed as we came upon a small wooden cabin on the edge of a meadow, awash with pink, blue and purple wildflowers.

"Oh!" I breathed.

Edward grinned. "Do you like it?" he asked me unnecessarily, leading me around to the front of the cabin.

"Ah, yeah! Edward, this place is amazing!"

His hand tightened on mine as we looked out over the half-acre field of dancing splendor bathed in warming sunlight. He was still grinning, happy and pleased that I liked his bolt-hole because that's exactly what it was; I knew that when I saw the cabin. I understood this was a momentous occasion, that Edward didn't invite just anybody to come to his meadow, with or without him.

The meadow existed as an oasis surrounded by the forest that protected it. Eagles flew overhead and I spotted more deer on the far edge of the meadow. They were watching us, cautious but not fearful and a family of squirrels ran up and down the trees beside us.

"C'mon, let's take our gear inside before we relax in the meadow," he said, already leading me up the short steps to its narrow covered porch.

It wasn't a fancy structure being a cabin, but it had a rustic appeal with its A-line roof and the Adirondack chair on the porch where you could sit and relax and gaze upon the meadow. There was a window and a door which Edward unlocked with a key he took from his pocket. He stood back to let me enter first then came in behind me leaving the door wide open.

The fragrant breeze swept through the open door blowing away the slightly musty smell of disuse in the cabin and I understood now what the supplies were for. He obviously stayed here sometimes when the weather was fine. I wondered if this was the place he'd come to when he went hiking last week and made a mental note to ask him where the poison oak was so I could avoid it.

Edward slipped his backpack from his shoulders and dropped it onto the floor just inside the door. He took the cooler bag from me and told me to turn around so he could help me remove my own pack. The cabin interior was simple but tasteful and very much Edward. It looked like one of those flat-packed structures that were made for layman's to put together themselves. The walls and ceiling were lined in pine timber paneling painted in a white glaze, not white enough to disguise the wood, just enough to soften the look. The floors and the door were natural polished timber with a window on every wall. The cabin was small at about eighteen by eighteen feet but it contained everything needed for a short and comfortable visit.

"Did you build this, Edward?"

"Um, yes, about two years ago," he told me, "Jasper and Emmett and Dad helped. We bought one of those flat-pack kits and put it together over the summer. Let me show you around," he offered taking my hand again.

I grinned because a tour was completely superfluous given it was a square room with what looked like a bathroom in the corner. He showed me the small kitchen area against the front wall of the bathroom that had a few painted cupboards with a sink, a propane bar fridge and an integrated camping stove and oven. There was a small round table and two chairs for eating as well as a two-seater sofa and a tiny coffee table positioned on a rectangular, brightly woven rag rug near the entrance.

There was a double sized cast-iron white bed, a side table and a bulging bookcase on the far side of the cabin next to the bathroom. He also had a small stereo system and CD collection so I assumed there was some type of power source that was minimal because the cabin was lighted with propane lamps and oil lanterns. The bathroom was tiny and decorated with a mosaic of soft gray, green and blue tiles that mirrored the landscape. There was a small shower stall with a river-pebble floor, a toilet and a sink below a mirror.

It was a home away from home and I loved it.

"This is a fantastic bolt-hole, Edward. Do you come here often?" I asked him.

"Yes, a couple of days a week during the summer and some weekends in late spring and early fall. It's a bit cold in the winter and harder to get to but I've spent some time here when it snows as well."

"I'd love to see it in winter," I told him, "it must be a white winter-wonderland, all covered in snow. I could take some great photos," I said excitedly, then bit my lip wondering if he thought I was hinting for another invitation.

"It is. I'll bring you back if you like, when the path's not too icy."

"Um, okay. That would be great. Does Esme come here too?"

"Sometimes Mom does, when she wants to paint. Her artist supplies and easel are in that cupboard over there," he said pointing to what looked like a pantry cupboard in the kitchen.

"I didn't know Esme was an artist?" I said. "Have I seen any of her work?"

"Yes. The landscape in the dining room at home is Mom's as is the still-life in the den. These paintings in the living and sleeping area are Mom's as well."

I walked over to the framed water-color of the meadow in summertime hanging on the wall above the sofa. Esme had captured the meadow perfectly. She painted in the impressionist style that reminded me of the work of Monet. I said as much to Edward.

He grinned. "I think so too, but Mom brushes it off and says it's just a hobby. She's embarrassed that we compare her work to such an accomplished and famous artist, but secretly she's pleased," he told me with affection in his voice.

"Has she exhibited?"

"No. She could have; she's been asked, but she says she paints because it helps her detox from life so she wants to paint when, where and what suits her at the time. She doesn't want to be pressured into painting commissioned pieces for a client or an exhibit."

I nodded in understanding. "I know exactly what she means. I feel the same way about my photography. I was encouraged to exhibit in an amateur competition by my photography teacher in Jacksonville but I said no. I take photos for my own pleasure and to preserve my own memories. I don't want to make my living from it doing weddings and christenings and birthdays for strangers."

He looked at me curiously as he picked up his heavy pack to begin unloading it. I went to join him and help. "What do you want to do? Will you go to college?" he asked.

"Yes. I … I want to be a writer," I told him shyly.

"Have you written anything, been published?" he asked me, pulling canned goods and packages of dried food from the pack and storing them in the larder.

"Um, I've got some written pieces but I've never submitted anything to a publisher," I confessed with embarrassment. "I haven't written anything non-school related since the accident," I told him.

"Could I read them sometime?" he asked tentatively, "I mean if you want me to, that is."

I shrugged. No one but my English teacher had ever read my work.

"Maybe you should," he said quietly when I didn't say anything else.

"Should what?"

"Write about the crash and everything that happened after it," he suggested. "It might be therapeutic."

"Is that what you did?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, startled. His expression was worried as though he thought I might know something he didn't want me to know.

"After whatever happened to you happened, did you play the piano or did you give it up?" I challenged him gently.

He didn't say anything but I knew he was thinking about what I said. He continued to unpack the bag in silence, taking fresh sheets and towels into the bathroom linen closet along with toilet paper rolls and personal hygiene products. I knew then, he was definitely planning on coming back for a longer visit.

I put the cooler bag with our lunch on the small kitchen counter then opened a bottle of water from my own pack and drank thirstily. Edward came out and opened the windows allowing a cross-breeze to sweep through the cabin.

"How did you get everything up here? To build the cabin, I mean. I didn't see a road," I said curiously.

"There's a track about two hundred feet away that acts as an access road between our property and our neighbor. We brought the prefabbed pieces in on a truck and erected it on site," he told me. "There's an insulated rainwater collection tank on the other side by the bathroom and a septic tank under the cabin for the toilet. The gray water from the shower gets filtered then empties into a trench we built," he chuckled, "it waters the trees, not that they don't get enough rain already, but we've got to get rid of the water somehow. There's also a solar panel on the roof that charges the storage batteries and that supplies enough power for the stereo and a small TV," he told me.

"There's a TV?" I hadn't seen one.

"Yes, on the wall there," he said pointing to a 22 inch flat-screen television mounted on the wall of the small dining area, directly opposite the sofa.

"Hmm! Well, you've certainly got a great set-up here. Does anyone other than you and Esme ever come here."

"I think Emmett and Rosalie have come here a couple of times, but that's all. No one else has ever been here at the same time as me. Are you ready to relax in the meadow?"

I nodded eagerly and grabbed my camera and water bottle from the small dining table where I'd left them. Edward went into the bathroom and came back with an old quilt tucked under his arm done in a 'wedding ring' pattern and picked up a rectangular satchel from the kitchen bench and his own bottle of water.

"Let's go!" he said taking my hand again. I thrilled at this touch!

We walked into the center of the meadow, surrounded by wildflowers with the sun nearly directly overhead as it neared the midday hour. Edward spread out the quilt and tossed his satchel and water onto a corner.

"Your blanket awaits, Milady," he said with a chivalrous smile, holding his hand out to me to help me sit.

I took his hand (Wow! Another bolt of electricity) and sat down with my legs curled under me before reluctantly letting go of Edward's hand. He sat beside me and pulled the satchel towards him taking out a sketch pad and pencils. He flipped through the pages and I caught glimpses of his work (they were beautiful; he was so talented) until he came to a partially completed drawing of a lions head.

"That's beautiful," I complimented. "You're really talented – you must have inherited Esme's artist genes," I commented. "Is Carlisle artistic too?" I grinned, knowing he wasn't. He'd tried to draw a map for Emmett last week with directions to a bookstore in Seattle and it looked like illegible chicken scratchings. Emmett threw it away and programed the SatNav in the jeep instead.

"Do stick-figures count?" he joked.

"Ah, no! Are there mountain lions near here," I asked him, indicating his drawing.

"Yes, but I don't usually see them. Mountain lions are solitary animals and tend to shy away from human contact. They know humans are in their territory but we don't usually know that they're watching us."

"Are they dangerous?" I asked him, slightly worried.

"Not usually, not unless they're threatened in some way or the female has cubs. I've heard of attacks but they're rare," he assured me.

"Where did you see that one?" I asked, pointing to his drawing again.

"The last time I was here. She was sunning herself on that mound of rocks over there," he said, indicating a small hill of granite at the far edge of the meadow by the trees.

"How did you get close enough to her to sketch her so intricately?"

"I didn't. I'm not stupid enough to deliberately get that close to a wild cat especially one with cubs. I used binoculars to study her and then began drawing. She stayed around long enough for me to spy on her for awhile," he said with a grin.

"Did you see her cubs," I asked excitedly; I loved cats.

"No, but she's lactating and her mammary glands were full of milk so I knew she had cubs close by."

I pulled my camera toward me to take some close shots of the wildflowers and look around the surrounding area with my new telephoto lens. I hoped the lioness would come back and bring her cubs with her; I really wanted to see them and they'd make a great photographic subject.

Edward and I sat in companionable silence for about an hour; him sketching (he'd started a new one) and me taking photos. I stood up at one point to photograph a bee collecting pollen and was able to take some fantastic close shots. I pointed my camera at Edward as he was concentrating and took some photos of him as well. His face was intent on his drawing and the sun bathed him in golden light, highlighting the red tints in his messy hair and making his skin glint like diamonds.

I sighed; he was so beautiful. It was about then, my stomach rumbled hungrily and loudly, announcing to the world that it wanted to eat.

"You hungry?" Edward asked me, closing his sketchbook and tossing it onto the blanket. He stood up and offered me his hand to head back to the cabin. "Let's get our lunch and come back here to eat. What did you make us," he asked eagerly.

I grinned. Edward loved my cooking just as much as Emmett did, he was just a little less enthusiastic than his brother who forgot about table manners whenever there was food in the offering.

"Fried chicken and potato salad," I told him, "with chocolate cake and cold milk for dessert."

"Let's go!" he said ravenously, pulling me behind him.

"When did you have time to make all of this?" he asked me as I unloaded the cooler bag.

"This morning. I got up around six."

"You didn't have to get up so early, Bella. We could have just had a couple of sandwiches and you could have slept in instead," he replied, with just a hint of disapproval in his voice.

"I wanted to do it, Edward. I like cooking; and it's not like I can't sleep in tomorrow morning," I placated him, "we are on summer vacation."

"Hmm, okay then, but you shouldn't be doing all of the cooking – you're not our housekeeper," he reprimanded gently, pulling some plates and cutlery from the cupboards.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation and tossed the plastic cutlery and paper plates I'd brought into my backpack as they weren't needed.

"I saw that, you know."

"What?"

"Your eye roll."

I cocked a brow.

"Whenever I say something that pisses you off and you don't respond verbally, I know you're rolling your eyes at me instead," he explained.

"Is nothing a secret from you, Edward?" I whined.

"Not really," he said, unapologetically. "I … I seem to be attuned to you?" he whispered.

I swallowed nervously and blushed looking down at my feet. I wished my hair wasn't in a ponytail so it would fall forward and hide my face. Instead, I cleared my throat awkwardly and started dishing out fried chicken and potato salad onto two plates and opened a zip-lock bag of tomato wedges I also brought. Edward grabbed the salt and pepper from the larder and some napkins and he brought the cutlery with him as he followed me out of the cabin door back to our blanket in the meadow.

We both ate heartily, Edward making 'Mmm' noises of enjoyment every now and then. He picked his chicken bones clean and I threatened to tell Emmett.

He glared at me. "You wouldn't dare!" he said with mock outrage. "I thought we were friends, Bella?" he whined and pouted.

I just laughed and picked my own bones clean. The chicken was good if I do say so myself. We laid our plates aside when we'd eaten our fill and Edward poured some of the bottled water over both of our hands to clean them, because I'd left the baby-wipes in the cabin. I dried mine on an unused napkin and Edward eventually wiped his own on the front of his T-shirt when he realized there were no more napkins left. His only choices, other than going back to the cabin, were the quilt we were lying on, a used napkin or his shirt. I could see that it irked him to do it even though the T-shirt was obviously old and would wash easily.

I smiled and bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh out loud. Edward's idiosyncrasies were sweet. I felt drowsy now that I'd eaten and it was warm in the sun. I yawned and Edward suggested I lie back and have a nap. I nodded and happily settled onto the blanket on my back, pushing my sunglasses further onto my face to shield my eyes from the glare of the sun. Edward laid back and rested on his forearms contemplating the meadow and God knows what else.

I must have slipped off to sleep for a couple of hours because when I awoke the sun had moved in the sky and Edward was propped on his side staring at my face. He'd removed my sunglasses when the sun moved leaving us partially shaded. My breath caught at the expression of concentration on his face and another emotion I couldn't quite pin down. My lips parted as I turned my head to look back at him.

He brought his hand up hesitantly, then paused for a moment before bringing his fingers to my face to lightly stroke from my temple to my jaw. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered to me.

I blushed, but opened my eyes to look into his. He'd moved closer.

"May I … kiss you?" he asked tentatively, moving infinitesimally closer as he waited for my answer.

_'Yes!' I metaphorically fist-pumped._

I nodded and watched him as his face moved over mine blocking out the sun entirely. My lips parted slightly and my eyes closed as I felt his lips press against mine. I think I swooned and if I'd been standing, I would have collapsed. His mouth was so soft and his lips moved gently against mine. He lifted his mouth for a few moments and I opened my eyes. The expression on his face was one of astonishment and I wondered if mine reflected the same.

He moved to kiss me again and this time I met him half-way lifting my head from the blanket to angle my mouth under his. Edward's hands encircled my body as his hands cradled my shoulders. My own hands reached up and held on to his upper arms wrapping my fingers around his muscles. He deepened our second kiss, capturing my top lip between his to suckle gently then slid his tongue along my bottom lip seeking entry to my mouth. I complied and opened my mouth a little wider. His tongue slipped inside stroking against my teeth (I hoped they weren't furry from lunch!) then he crossed their sharp barrier to tangle his tongue gently with my own.

I didn't really know what I was doing but I followed Edward's lead and stroked his tongue with mine in a dance as old as time. I felt something like butterfly's fluttering around in my lower belly but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation; quite the opposite in fact. I think I might have moaned and Edward accepted my sound of pleasure as his cue to pull me closer. We were partly reclining now and I wrapped my arms around Edward's neck, tangling my fingers in the hair at his nape, and returned his kiss, stroke for stroke, nibble for nibble until I broke away at last, panting for breath.

Edward sighed and rested his forehead against mine, catching his own breath and tamping down desire. I knew what it was, because I felt the same way; there was a peculiar tingling feeling in my lady parts and I could see a heavy bulge in Edward's jeans at his groin.

"Wow!" I whispered. What a fantastic first and second kiss. I grinned happily, I couldn't help it. Edward grinned back at me.

"It certainly was," he agreed, with a grin of enjoyment and amazement on his own face.

"Um, can we do that again?" I asked him brazenly.

_'Hussy!'_

"Any time, Bella. Any time," he confirmed bringing his mouth back to mine. This time he lowered me to the quilt cradled in his arms and he taught me about kissing for the next half hour. Eventually we had to take a break because both his lips and mine were red and swollen and just a little tender. He help me stand and we walked back to the cabin hand-in-hand to return the lunch debris and grab our dessert. I could also do with a cup of coffee and I hoped the thermos was still hot.

We ate the cake and cold milk (I'd partially frozen small plastic bottles of milk so it would keep cold as they thawed) at the small kitchen table and I had a cup of lukewarm coffee. It wasn't as satisfying as a hot one would have been, but I needed the caffeine so I wasn't complaining.

"What time do we need to head back?" I asked Edward as he ate the rest of my piece of cake. I wasn't all that hungry after the big lunch I'd eaten.

"It get's dark at around 8 o'clock but it will start to get cooler by 6.30, so we should probably leave by then," he told me.

"Alright," I agreed noticing the time on the wall clock in the kitchen. It was 3.30 now. "What shall we do for the next three hours?"

He grinned at me lecherously. I grinned back at him but blushed furiously. He got up from the table and placed our empty plates in the sink before holding out his hand to lead me out of the cabin again.

"I just need to use the bathroom," I told him.

"Go ahead. I'll wait for you."

I took care of my needs and washed my hands looking at my reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink. My face was flushed and my eyes sparkled. I don't think I'd seen such light and happiness in them since before the accident and it was all Edward's doing. I was actually happy for the first time in nine months and my breath caught in a sob of realization. I wiped at my eyes with some toilet paper then pulled the hair tie from my hair and finger brushed it into a neater ponytail tying it up again.

When I came out of the bathroom, Edward had washed up our few dishes and was ready to head back out to the meadow. I took his offered hand and walked beside him to pick up my camera then by tacit agreement, we roamed around the meadow so I could take some more photos. I made Edward pose for a few shots but he frowned self-consciously and I couldn't get him to smile. I'd have to get some more candid shots instead. He took the camera from me asking me how it worked so he could take some of me. Like him, I hated being photographed but he teased me until I laughed and smiled and he got a couple of good images.

Edward suddenly clutched my forearm and stopped me from walking forward. I looked at him worriedly wondering what was wrong. I gulped thinking there might be a snake. I don't _like _snakes!

"Look," he whispered directing my gaze to the granite mound of rock in the distance.

The lioness was back and this time she had three cubs with her. They were playing together in the wildflowers mock-fighting and bounding around chasing each other until one of them was distracted by a butterfly. Their mother looked on approvingly then returned to surveying the area for danger and other predators. She saw us and directed her gaze on us for a long moment, then apparently decided we were no threat to her or her babies as long as we kept our distance.

Edward handed me the camera and I brought it up to my face, grateful that it still had the telephoto lens attached to it. I focused on the lioness snapping three or four photos and she generously remained motionless, only moving her head occasionally to follow her babies with watchful eyes. I took some great photos of her cubs as well, giggling at their antics. At one point the lioness stood up and stretched on all fours then she bounded down to lie in the grass and wildflowers with her babies. She was magnificent and I quickly took some more photos of her; they'd be fantastic when I printed them out.

Eventually, Edward said we should return to the quilt so as not to make her too nervous about our presence in the meadow and I reluctantly turned to walk slowly away. Edward said not to make any abrupt movements so she wouldn't suddenly decide we were a threat.

We watched them from our quilt for another half hour until we heard the lioness screech at her cubs then she bounded down from the outcropping she'd returned to earlier. She chattered to her cubs (though we couldn't hear her this time) then turned to walk into the trees nearest to her, as her cubs followed obediently behind her.

I sighed. I'd had the best day.

"Happy?" said Edward, cuddling me.

I was nestled between his bent knees leaning against his chest. His chin was resting on my right shoulder and his nose was nuzzling against my neck sending shivers up and down my spine.

"Yes. Thank you for bringing me here, Edward," I thanked him sincerely.

"The pleasure was all mine, Bella."

We sat in companionable silence for a little while until I asked Edward the question I've been wanting to ask since we arrived at the meadow. I was afraid of ruining what had come before this moment, but I felt it was important for Edward to talk about whatever was continuously bothering him.

"Why do you come here, Edward?"

I felt him stiffen behind me.

"I mean, I know it's beautiful and I'd come here to relax as well if this was my meadow, but _why_ do you … escape here so much, Edward. What are you running away from?" I whispered to him stroking his hands folded against my belly.

He was silent for a long while other than his rapid breathing which eventually slowed and quieted. I resigned myself that he wouldn't share his monsters with me but he surprised me.

"I had a twin brother," he confessed quietly.

I stilled. _'Had?'_

"What happened to him?" I whispered gently, tightening my hands around his which were clenching in my lap.

"He died."

…

A/N: Sorry for leaving it there. Don't you hate me now?

Review! Review! Review! Let me know what you think.

A few notes for you:

I hate Wuthering Heights and I think Emily Bronte's writing is depressing so I've used P&P as Bella's favorite book.

The candy Edward gives to Bella is known as barley sugar lollies outside of North America.

For those of us used to metric measurements one gallon (the apple juice bottle from chapter 7) is equivalent to about 3.7 liters, and when Edward was driving 10 miles over the 70 mile speed limit at 80 mph, he would have been traveling at about 130 kilometers per hour.

Jasper's story about his father is not based on any actual event. Any similarities are purely coincidental.

Edward's cologne is 'Black Code' by Armani.

Check out my blog for photos relating to this chapter. Direct link on my profile page.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: A short chapter with a bit of levity and moving along B&E's relationship. Edward doesn't waste any time when he wants something as we know from Chapter 1.

Chapter 9 – First Date (Edwards POV)

Mom greeted Bella and me with a huge smile on her face as I walked in the back door just after 7.30 pm with Bella's hand firmly clasped in mine. She was noticeably excited at just how much Bella and I had bonded at the meadow. I'd held Bella's hand all (most) the way home and thank Christ I did, because she tripped twice over her own feet and would have fallen in a heap, if I hadn't caught her.

Bella only brushed herself off, retied her shoe laces and told me to get used to it because she'd been like that since birth and doubted she'd ever get any better. I'd pinched the bridge of my nose where I felt the pulsing rhythms of a migraine forming when I thought about a future with this girl that likely included taking Bella to, or collecting Bella from, a hospital emergency room where a gaping wound was stitched or a broken bone was cast.

I don't think I've ever known someone so prone to accidents and injury. In the ten days since I'd met her she'd twisted her knee, bruised her elbow, stubbed her big toe, cut her hand and had a meltdown in the ladies toilet although I didn't hold the meltdown against her. That was an emotional injury rather than a physical one, although the low blood sugar unconsciousness that followed might, just might, classify as physical in my copy book.

I nearly had an aneurysm when she told me on the walk home, she planned to do some of the building repair work and painting at her house and she wanted me to drive her to the hardware store in Port Angeles so she could hire the equipment and power tools she needed. I had instantaneous and vivid nightmares of her removing a limb (not necessarily her own) in a gory catastrophe of gargantuan proportions as she operated the chop saw she said she needed.

I told her categorically and loudly, "I. WON'T. ALLOW. IT!"

She stopped on the path, cocked a brow of stunned disbelief and said, "_Excuse me!_"

I cocked one brow back at her and snarked, "Which part did you not understand?"

"Can _you_ use a chop saw, Edward?" she smirked at me with a look of disdain that said she doubted I even knew what a chop saw was.

Well I've got news for her! Of course I know what a fucking chop saw is. It's a, well it's, um, it's a … FUCK! Alright, I don't fucking know what a fucking chop saw is, but that's beside the point! My girl will NOT be operating life endangering power tools typically used on building sites by behemoths named 'Bubba', and that's final!

I said as much to Bella … but, I edited out the 'fuck'.

BIG Mistake! HUGE! … saying _that_ to Bella; not the 'fuck' part.

Bella pulled her hand from mine and stomped down the pathway for a few yards before she stopped and turned around to face me in a huff.

"WHAT GIVES _YOU_ THE RIGHT, Edward Effing Cullen," (I reared back in surprise – _SHE _swore at me!), "to tell me what _I_ can and can't do? Huh! Tell me? Because, the last time I checked, you weren't my husband, Edward and a few kisses in the grass don't make you my boyfriend either. So until that situation changes, you don't have _any_ rights to me that I don't give you. GOT THAT!"

"A few kisses!" I hissed. "A few kisses in the grass!" I mimicked her (she glared). "Is that _all_ it was to you, Bella?" I said with a hurt tone to my voice.

She squirmed. GOTCHA!

"Well, no. Of course not! It _was_ special, Edward, you know it was. I was making a point," she said sternly. "You can't just suddenly decide to make decisions for me and expect me to blithely go along with it."

"Why not?" I asked her, genuinely baffled.

"BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT MY BOYFRIEND, EDWARD!"

"YES. I. AM!"

"NO. YOU'RE. NOT!"

"IF I'M NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND, THEN WHAT WAS ALL THAT KISSING IN THE GRASS?"

"KISSING!" she shrieked at me with clenched fists by her side.

I made a split-second decision; a real anomaly for me, the guy who planned out everything to the nth degree and the finest detail.

"Bella Swan?"

"What!"

"Will you be my girlfriend?" I found myself saying.

I'd never had a real girlfriend; Lauren didn't count and I'd never kissed her like I kissed Bella. I never felt about Lauren the way I feel about Bella. I was sick of fighting my feelings for Bella. For ten days I acted like I didn't care two hoots about her but she got under my skin despite all my efforts to repel her.

I liked her. A lot! I loved kissing her and touching her and holding her in my arms. I might even be falling in love with her and I wanted the right to stop her from doing something fucking stupid when it came to her safety and my peace of mind! If being her boyfriend gave me certain rights, well then, I would be a boyfriend! I could do it!

"Why?" she asked me suspiciously.

I told her.

Even BIGGER mistake than the last one … because I skipped the _'falling in love with her'_ part!

She stared at me with narrowed eyes then took two steps toward me and pulled her arm back. I never saw it coming until her small fist connected with my face.

"OW! OW! You broke my hand!" she cried, holding it against her midriff and jumping around.

"Well you broke my fricking nose! Why'd you do that for?" I yelled, cradling my nose which was dripping blood onto my T-shirt.

"WHY? You want to know_ WHY? _Are you an idiot, Edward, or just totally devoid of any commonsense? What type of proposal was _that_?" she spat at me.

"What was wrong with it? I asked you to be my girlfriend. I thought you'd be pleased?" I told her.

I really didn't understand girls. Lauren wasn't this hard. Oh, right; she wasn't _really_ a girlfriend. She was just a fuck-buddy.

"You don't tell the girl you're asking to be your girlfriend that you're asking her so you can tell her what to do, Edward!"

"Bella," I whined, changing tactics. I needed to do some fast damage control not to fuck this up even more than I already had. "I only want to look after you. Isn't that what boyfriends do?" I asked her sulkily.

"Yes, Edward," she replied in a tone used by frustrated mothers reasoning with a four year old, "but I don't recall the teenage relationship handbook saying anything about forsaking all rights and independence to one's boyfriend."

"Does that mean you're saying yes?" I asked, brightening.

She sighed. "Tell me again why you want to be my boyfriend and this time try using a bit of sincerity in the asking, that doesn't include ordering me about, and I might consider it."

I gulped. Did I really have to do this? She was waiting; her posture and expression screamed it. I wasn't getting an affirmative answer until I asked her properly. Shit!

"Bella Swan," I said nasally because my nose was pissing blood, "will you do me the divine honor of becoming my girlfriend? I will promise to look after you and keep you from harm and I will do my very best to be a wonderful boyfriend … and, I will try very hard not to order you about … _too much,_" I mumbled.

Bella came toward me again. I got frightened she was going to punch me again and I actually backed up a step.

"Edward," she said softly, "let me see your nose."

"No," I whimpered.

"Edward?"

"Not until you answer me. I gave you a proper proposal and now I want a proper answer."

She picked up the front of her shirt and brought it up to my face. I reared back from the shirt; it was probably covered in germs, but Bella caught me behind the neck with the wrist of her broken hand pulling my head down, and started blotting at the congealing blood on my top lip and chin.

"Move your hand, Edward," she commanded, "and yes, I will be your girlfriend."

I whooped. I actually fucking whooped.

She grinned and shook her head. "Now let me see."

"Ow!" I whimpered as she daubed at my nostrils.

"Hmm! I've actually got a pretty decent right hook," she said proudly, obviously pleased with herself. She handed me a bottle of water from the cooler bag she'd been carrying, so I could rinse my mouth and face of blood.

I scowled at her, as I was presently the guy who'd just been on the other end of that right hook. "It's not so good, Bella," I said bursting her balloon, "not if you managed to break your hand doing it!"

"Um, yeah. Right. I forgot. It kinda hurts and it's swelling up."

"Let me see," I said taking her hand and gently cradling it in both of mine. I think she might have fractured her thumb and I said as much to her.

She sighed but accepted it as inevitable. I kissed her lightly on the mouth.

"Come on," I said to her, grabbing her left hand, "let's go. It's getting dark and I want to get you home before you trip and break your other hand," I said dryly, but with an element of seriousness in my voice.

…

"Oh, my GOD!" Mom screeched as she spotted the mess we were both in. "Why are you both covered in blood?" she shrieked. "CARLISLE!" she screamed, making my ears ring, "BRING YOUR BAG!"

"Esme, we're fine, really," Bella tried to assure her, "it was just an accident."

"What did you do, Edward?" Mom asked accusingly, peering up my nose. Geez. Gross much, Mom!

"What? Why does it have to be me that did something? How do you know it wasn't Bella, the walking klutz beside me?" I said evading my mothers further ministrations. She turned her mothering attentions to Bella's hand and I took off my backpack, then reached for Bella's, sliding it down her arms.

"Hey!" Bella objected, knocking me in the side with her good hand when her arms were free.

"Well it was _your_ fault," I told her.

"_Really_, Edward? It was my fault, was it?" she said coldly.

"No!" I gasped. Shit! When will I learn to keep my fucking mouth shut with this girl?

"What's the problem?" asked Dad, as he rushed into the kitchen.

"Look at them! Just look at them both!" said Mom hysterically.

"What did you do, Edward?" asked my Dad, as he quickly assessed our condition and came towards us with his medical bag.

"JESUS EFFING CHRIST! Why does everyone assume it's my fault!"

"Edward!" rebuked my mom sharply.

"What happened?" asked Dad as he peered up my nose. Christ!

"I, um, I punched him in the face," confessed Bella apologetically as Dad stuffed cotton wool up my nostrils. Shit, that hurt!

"Did I hear little Bella say that she punched Edward in the face?" boomed Emmett as he strode into the kitchen. "I would have paid to see that!" he guffawed.

I flipped the bird at him and growled.

"What did you do, Edward?" he asked with a snigger.

"Fuck you, Emmett!" I snarled, but it came out sounding like I was Alvin the chipmunk.

"Edward!" cautioned Dad as he inspected Bella's hand, then placed a bag of peas on it that Mom got from the freezer.

"Both of you, into my office, now!" ordered Dad.

I took Bella's unbroken hand in mine and led her from the kitchen down the hallway to Dad's office. Mom and Dad followed closely behind us, as did Emmett, bringing up the rear with a smirk on his face. Dad slammed the door in his face as he and Mom came into the office. I sniggered.

"Sit!"

We sat.

"Explain!"

I gulped. "Um ..."

"Bella?" shot Dad like lightning when I didn't elaborate.

She swallowed. "I took … umbrage at something Edward said," she whispered evasively.

"Edward?" said Dad sternly. This time his expression said 'don't fuck around; I want answers and I want them now!'

"I, um, I might have forbidden her to do something," I said, equally as evasive.

"You might have, you say? Hmm. And what exactly did you say, Edward, that made Bella punch you in the nose?"

I shrugged.

Dad eyed Bella.

"Really, Carlisle, Edward was just being protective and I took it the wrong way. My punching him was just a stupid overreaction. We kissed and made up and now we're all good," Bella rushed out, then gasped when she realized that she'd referred to us kissing.

"You kissed!" said Mom excitedly, "He kissed you, Bella?"

Bella nodded enthusiastically.

"Ooohh," squealed Mom, hugging Bella to her breast. I don't think I've ever heard Mom squeal before. She must be channeling Alice.

"Esme!" Dad reproved quietly.

"Oh, sorry, Carlisle. Please continue," she said stepping back to stand beside Dad again, with an expression of parental disapproval on her face, but she couldn't hide her delight that Bella and I seemed to have 'hit it off', so to speak.

"So, let me see if I understand this," began Dad.

"Edward, you said something to Bella that she took offense to?"

I nodded.

"Bella, you felt that the offense warranted punching Edward in the nose?"

"Well, not if you put it like that, no," she began, but Dad cut her off. Fucking rude!

"Then you kissed and made up and now everything is fine and dandy?"

"Yes!" I said. "Everything's good. Great in fact. I asked Bella to be my girlfriend and she said yes!"

Mom squealed again. Definitely channeling Alice, I thought, rubbing my ringing ears.

"And Dad, Bella didn't just punch me for a single offense. I was um … a bit of prick!" I confessed guiltily. "I deserved it," I told him. I didn't want Dad to think that Bella just up and hooked me for no reason.

"Oh, Edward," sighed Mom, "I knew it was all your fault."

_'For the love of GOD! Is there no mercy?'_

"You know we're going to have to move one of them off the third floor, now, Esme," said Dad as he started taping up Bella's hand.

Bella mouthed silently, "I'm sorry" to Dad. He gestured, "it's okay" back to her, then mouthed silently, "I knew it was probably his fault."

_'Fricking traitor! What happened to male solidarity?'_

"WHAT? WHY?" I yelled at Dad. "Jasper and Alice and Emmett and Rose are all on the second floor. Why are they different?"

"_They_ don't get physical with each other," Dad fired back.

"How do you know?" I mouthed back acidly.

Dad just raised his eyebrows, not because of what I said, but how I'd said it.

"Sorry," I said.

"Dad, we're not you know … that type of physical," I told him with embarrassment. Yet! I clarified silently. Bella flushed red like a cooked lobster. "Geez, I only asked her to be my girlfriend like an hour ago. And we won't be getting the other type of physical again either. I've learned when to keep my mouth shut."

"I doubt that," Bella mutter-coughed into her hand.

I glared at her. _'Not helping, Bella!'_

"Good. Let's keep it that way for a while," ordered Dad. Mom nodded her head vigorously in agreement. Bella flushed even redder in the face.

Dad ordered me onto the examination bed so he could probe my nose and tape it. He cleaned it with medical alcohol, then applied strips of tape over the bridge. It had stopped bleeding, so he removed the soiled cotton wool from my nostrils. At least I wouldn't sound like Alvin any longer.

"You might have a couple of black eyes, but I don't think you've broken it; it's just badly bruised," Dad told me. "Stay away from fists and door knobs for a couple of weeks, and you'll be as good as new," he joked.

"Bella, your hand isn't fractured either, but you have wrenched the thumb badly, so it will be swollen and bruised for about as long as Edward's nose takes to heal. Try not to use it too much for the next couple of weeks; no heavy lifting, carrying or pulling, okay?"

"Okay," we both said simultaneously.

I at least, had gotten my own way, as Bella wouldn't be using any fucking chop saw any time soon. I smirked triumphantly.

She noticed and glared.

"Okay, you can both go. You might want to get some sleep; you're both going to feel exhausted when the adrenalin wears off. Take two Motrin for the pain if you need it," he said handing us a couple of pills each.

I slipped off the examination table and walked over to Bella to help her to her feet. I clasped her left hand tightly in mine and led her to the office door.

"Do you want something to eat?" asked Mom as I grasped the door handle.

I looked at Bella. She shook her head. I wasn't really all that hungry either.

"No thanks, Mom. We're not hungry. We'll grab something later if we want it."

"Alright, Dear. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," we both caroled.

I opened the door and Emmett fell in, landing in a heap on the floor.

"You nosy prick!" I hissed as I stepped over him, then picked Bella up by the waist to swing her over him.

"Bro, you can't blame me. That was just too good not to spy!" Emmett crowed unapologetically.

I flipped him the bird and strode down the hallway, Bella jogging to keep up with me. I stopped abruptly when we got to the foyer and she ran into the back of me.

"Sheesh, Edward. Slow down."

"Sorry, Bella. Um, do you want to have a shower?"

She cocked a brow.

"_Alone_, Bella. I meant that if you want to shower, _alone_, I'll need to bag your hand so the tape doesn't get wet."

"I know," she replied smugly.

I rolled my eyes and pulled her into the kitchen, slowing my gait this time so she wouldn't have to jog to keep up. I grabbed a couple of large zip-lock bags from the drawer where Mom kept the foil and the cling film and stuff and some rubber bands to tie the bag onto her wrist. I detoured to the freezer for a couple of cold packs (one for Bella and one for me) and threw the defrosted peas Bella had on her hand in the bin. While I was there, I snagged two bottles of OJ and and the rest of the fried chicken from the fridge in case we got hungry later.

_'Take that, Emmett!'_

Bella smirked.

"Let's take the elevator," I said and she pressed the call button since my hands were full.

When we got upstairs, I led her into my room first and placed the food on the coffee table in the sitting area.

"Let me bag your hand for you, then after you shower, will you come back here?" I asked a little anxiously as I tied a rubber band around her wrist. I tested the elasticity to make sure it wasn't too tight.

"Yes, give me fifteen minutes or so and I'll be back," she promised, then left my room.

I used her absence to have my own shower and wash my hair. Somehow I'd managed to get blood in it, as well as on my face and chest. My T-shirt was ruined, so I tossed it in the bin then dressed in a pair of boxers, black sleep pants and a white T-shirt.

By the time I came out of the bathroom, Bella was back and sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed dressed similarly to me but in a feminine equivalent in a pretty lemon shade. Yes, I know what fucking lemon is! She'd pulled her hair from it's ponytail and she was brushing it out. I halted in my tracks and watched her, totally captivated by the sight and completely ignoring the stray hairs clinging to the upholstery … at least until she went to bed; then I'd collect them up.

I sighed. She was so beautiful. Her hair was a long, glistening fall of chestnut colored waves that reached the middle of her back and surrounded her pale features, accentuating her dark brown eyes. I couldn't believe she'd agreed to be my girlfriend. I was one lucky bastard!

I'd told her about Robert at the meadow. Not all of it, just some of it and she'd listened to me without condemnation. I think that's when I really started to fall in love with her. When I was kissing her, I'd been in lust with her. Before the meadow, I'd been in like with her.

Does that make me a selfish prick, that I'd fallen in love with her because she didn't hate my guts like I hated myself for so long; or was I simply starting to accept what Mom and Dad had said all along – that it wasn't my fault; Robert's death. It really _was,_ just an accident and I didn't need to punish myself and everyone around me.

I sighed again. Bella heard me this time and she looked up smiling at me. She stopped brushing her hair but I walked over to her and took the brush from her, sitting behind her with my legs cradling her on the deep sofa to continue brushing her hair for her. It crackled with electricity and health and I loved the feel of it in my hands. She leaned against my chest and I put my arms around her.

"Thank you for today, Edward and thank you for telling me about Robert."

"I didn't tell you everything," I confessed.

"I know," she sighed and cuddled into me.

"Was that our first date?" she asked with a giggle as she leaned her head back to look up at me.

I kissed her. "Yeah, I think it was!"

…


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Beta'd by Marshmellow007

A/N: I needed to do this chapter to move things along in the story a bit. There is some dialogue but a lot of it is Bella telling us about what's happening. Chapter 11 takes us to Edward's birthday.

Chapter 10 – Killing Time

I was sitting at the kitchen table on Monday morning with the Forks Forum newspaper in front of me, searching the classifieds section for local trades who would give me estimates for structural repairs to my house. Jenks had deposited both my monthly allowance of $1,500 and the 'decoration' budget into my bank account, and mailed me the letter of authority as promised. I still hadn't called Jenks and I made a mental note to do that today.

I flipped my notebook open to the list of repairs I'd made nearly two weeks ago. How time flies, I thought – it waits for no woman. I'd been so eager to get started that day but events had conspired against me, keeping me out of action for one reason or another. I thought about Edward who was sitting beside me eating the breakfast he'd helped me cook and feeding me bites of fluffy pancakes because I couldn't use a knife and fork at the same time with my injured hand.

I'd apologized to him last night in his room while we talked and he lazily brushed my hair. I don't know what came over me on the path home last night. I mean, Edward was pretty arrogant at the best of times with his propensity to order people about, but I'd kinda gotten used to it and generally tended to ignore him, but his assumption that I was his girlfriend without him even asking me and then forbidding me to do something he didn't want me to do … well I just saw red – literally.

I've never reacted physically like that before and usually I'm a pretty mellow person; a 'go with the flow' kinda girl. I don't really like confrontation – I never have, but with Edward last night, he just set something off in me that seemed to come out of nowhere and POW! I was letting him have it right in the nose. I cringe when I think about his beautiful nose. Overnight it had swollen to roughly twice its normal size and he had pale purple bruises shadowing his lower eye sockets.

Edwards attitude wasn't the only reason I let fly I concluded at about 2 am this morning. I laid awake for hours last night after Edward finally let me go to bed thinking about where the anger came from and why it was so unreasonable. I think I was able to pinpoint when and why the anger began, but I had no insight in how to deal with it and what to do to make it go away.

Since Wednesday's conversation with Jenks I'd felt … unsettled. That's not really the right word to describe how I feel but I can't put my finger on what the emotion stirring me actually is. I didn't really notice anything happening at first and on Sunday at the meadow, I had no sense of the anger brewing in me at all but whatever the elusive emotion was; it slowly invaded my every cell until it found just the catalyst it needed to erupt. And erupt, I did.

The physical release dissipated some of the pent up emotion, but I could feel it start to build again, now that I recognized it for what it was. It was milder now, but it was still there, squatting like a monster in my gut waiting for the next time.

I sighed. I really did need to see someone; Carlisle was right about that. I wondered whether I could convince Edward to see someone again as well. I think he'd seen someone at VRC before – it was what he'd alluded to when he told me he'd dropped out of a 'program' there. He had his own anger and self-hatred and guilt to deal with and his was even more deeply entrenched than mine was. My anger was six days old; his was six _years _old and if I felt like I did after only six days, I couldn't begin to imagine how soul-destroying Edward's was.

He'd told me about his twin brother, Robert Patrick Cullen at the meadow yesterday. Last night, he'd confirmed what I already knew, that he hadn't told me everything, but I never expected he would straight off. After all, I haven't told anyone all of my secrets about the crash either.

Edward told me that when he and Robert were eleven years old, Robert had fallen from a height of about twenty feet and broken his neck. He'd died before he even hit the ground so I assumed that whatever he fell from, the fatal injury was inflicted during the fall or before he fell. I asked Edward why he believed Robert's death was his fault and all he'd said was, "_it wasn't perfect and because of that, Robert fell."_

I ached for Edward. He didn't say anything else and I didn't ask him any further questions, but I thought my insight into his need for perfection was pretty damned perceptive.

_'Hmm. Maybe I'd make a good shrink if I couldn't be a writer! Now if I could only shrink myself, I'd be good.'_

Edward caught me staring at him and gave me a quizzical 'what?' expression. I just smiled and shook my head 'nothing' at him. Edward was reading the Arts section of the Seattle Times while he ate his breakfast and intermittently fed me from his plate. Every two or three mouthfuls, he'd change forks and cut off a bite of pancakes and feed it to me. I laughed at him silently. He could stuff his tongue down my throat without a care in the world, but he _couldn't_ bear to share his fork with me.

I'd cooked buttermilk banana pancakes which he'd measured and mixed the ingredients for, as I supervised and instructed. It became blatantly apparent after only five minutes of scowling and hair fisting (from me; not him) that Edward didn't _like_ being instructed – big surprise there! Edward _liked _being the one who was _giving_ the instruction instead. He questioned me constantly and even argued with me over the most efficient way to flip a pancake.

I know with absolute certainty that he didn't know what a chop saw was yesterday evening but I bet if I quizzed him now, he'd know to the nth degree everything there was to know about it that could be learned from the internet! He doesn't believe I know how to use a power tool and he'll do anything he has to – even if it means learning how to use them himself, if it will stop me from using them instead. If only he knew just how accomplished I was; Phil had made damn sure of it before he'd let me help him with any construction work. I might be a clumsy twat standing still, but put a power tool in my hands and I was transformed.

A name in one of the classified ads for general contractors caught my eye – it was familiar to me. Where had I heard or seen that name before? Hmm, Billy Black. It must be a name I knew when I lived here before, but who was it? I felt I should know the name well.

I snapped the fingers of my uninjured hand as recognition dawned – Dad's fishing friend, that's who it was. I think he had a son as well – Jock? Jack? No, Jacob, that's it. Wait, didn't Emmett mention some kid called Jacob Black at my house that Saturday?

"Hey, Emmett?"

"Mmhmm?" he mumbled around the thick pancake he'd folded into quarters and shoved into his mouth.

"Do you know some kid called, Jacob Black?"

Emmett swallowed the lump in his mouth making his Adams Apple bob up and down. "Yup. He's on my football team. Why?"

"Is his dad Billy Black by any chance?"

"Yeah, I think so," he said losing interest in the conversation to shove another folded pancake into his enormous gob. Thank God I wasn't paying the flippin' grocery bill!

"Why do you want to know about Jacob Black, Bella?" demanded Edward with a possessive glower.

I ignored him … well not Edward; just the possessive glower.

I'd decided this morning while making the pancakes, that in order for this relationship of ours to have any chance of success, I'd need to be the bigger person and let slide, all stupid, moronic, idiotic, asinine, anxious, compulsive, possessive, dominant and jealous behavior expressed by Edward in his need to control everything around him and by extension, me!

_'Water sliding off a ducks back, that's what I'd be; Edward being the duck!' _

I sniggered silently at my analogy. I don't think Edward would be too happy if he knew I'd compared him to a duck.

"I don't," I assured Edward, "but I think Billy Black's his father and he's a general contractor in Forks. He lives in La Push, on the reservation I think, and he was a buddy of my Dad's. Can I borrow your phone please, Edward?" I wanted to call him and see if he'd meet me at the house today. The sooner the repairs began the better.

Edward scowled but handed me his iPhone.

I dialed the number and waited for it to pickup opening my mouth for another forkful of pancake offered by Edward. I almost choked in my haste to swallow when the call was answered and I was expected to respond. Edward rubbed my back between my shoulder blades and frowned at me with concern.

"Ahem. Sorry. Is this Billy Black?"

"No. This is Jacob. Billy's my dad. Is this about a job?" he asked.

"Yes. Could you get him for me please?"

"DAD! PHONE!" yelled the kid into the phone, almost shattering my eardrums.

_'Geezus!'_ I winced, jerking the phone away from my ear. Edward's mouth tightened in irritation – even he'd heard the kid, and he tried to take the phone off me to yell back at him. I swatted his hand away and just ended up hurting myself because I unwittingly used my injured hand.

_'OW!'_ I shot Edward a filthy look.

"_Billy Black."_

"Oh, hello, Mr Black. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Bella Swan. Charlie Swan was my Dad."

"_Yes, Bella. I remember you, but I'm surprised you remember me. You were just a little girl when you left Forks."_

"Sure I remember you, Mr Black," I replied. Edward mouthed 'liar' at me and I motioned him back to his breakfast and newspaper.

"_I heard about your mother and her husband, Bella. I'm very sorry for your loss."_

"Thank you, Mr Black."

"_Please call me Billy; everybody does."_

"Okay, thanks, Mr … um, Billy."

"_What can I do for you, Bella?"_

"I've moved back to Forks, Billy and I'm fixing up Charlie's house so I can live in it."

"_Yes, I heard you moved back here, but I thought you were staying out at the Cullen place?"_

"I am, but the house needs some repairs. I was wondering if you could give me an estimate?" There was silence on the end of the phone and I thought the connection might have been lost.

"Are you there, Billy?"

"_Yes, I'm here, Bella. Ahm, Bella, how is a fifteen year old girl going to pay for the repairs to a house? I don't mean to be rude or pry into your affairs, but you gotta understand that I can't waste my time or do work I won't be paid for."_

"That's alright, Billy. I, um, understand. The money isn't a problem and I have a letter of authority from my lawyer," I told him, just a tiny bit irritated.

"_Alright, Bella," he said hesitantly, "I can meet you at Charlie's at about 4 o'clock this afternoon. Does that suit you?"_

"That's perfect, Billy."

"_Alrighty then, see you at four. Oh, and, Bella?"_

"Yes?"

"_Bring the letter of authority."_

"I will. Thanks, Billy. Bye," I said hanging up.

"Problem?" asked Edward, preparing to go into battle for me.

"No, I don't think so. He's going to meet me at Charlie's today at four."

"Us. He's going to meet us!" said Edward firmly.

"Fine. He's going to meet us," I reassured him, shaking my head. He was so protective and he'd been my boyfriend for less than a day.

Jasper only smiled into his plate of pancakes and Carlisle rolled his eyes because Edward had found a new outlet for his OCD tendencies, and answered another crossword question.

"Good morning everyone," sang Esme cheerfully as she entered the kitchen dressed for work in Port Angeles. Alice and Rosalie brought up the rear.

"Bella, did you cook again?" Esme chided.

"Yes, but Edward helped," I told her quickly. Like Edward had yesterday, Esme had already scolded me for doing so much of the cooking when there were seven other people in the house (including her) all capable of cooking if they could be bothered to learn.

"Is there any left for us?" asked Alice, sitting down beside Jasper. He gave her a taste of his food sharing _his_ fork with her.

"Yes," I told her, "there's a plate of pancakes in the warming oven I saved for you."

Emmett stared accusingly at me like I'd stolen his last toy.

"Thanks, Bella," she said going to the oven.

Rosalie sat down beside Emmett and peered at his rapidly disappearing breakfast with an expression of covetous envy. Alice had told me that Rosalie was on a diet to lose three pounds before July 4th so she could wear some new bikini she'd bought online from Paris. Apparently the suit she'd fallen in love with was only available in a size 4 and she was a size 6 so the top wouldn't stretch across her boobs.

She was a bit of a cranky-pants because she wasn't eating and Carlisle was cranky on her because he disapproved of her dieting when she was already on the lower end of the weight scale for her age and height. Emmett was like me; water off a ducks back except in their case he was the water and Rosalie was the duck.

"Hey, Bella, what's this smaller plate of pancakes for?"

"It's for Rosalie," I replied, looking at Rosalie shyly.

Rosalie shot me a scathing look and I flushed and looked down at the newspaper. My attempt to extend the hand of friendship looked like a waste of time.

"I'm on a diet, Bella," she hissed. "Everybody knows that!"

Carlisle frowned at the verbal reminder (silly girl) and Esme tutted in disapproval. Edward glared irritatedly at Rosalie. He'd told me not to bother while we were mixing the batter; that Rosalie wouldn't appreciate the thought or the effort. He cast me an, 'I told you so' look and I was tempted to poke my tongue out at him but I resisted.

"Don't be a cow, Rosalie," Edward snarled at her. "Bella made those especially for you because she _knows_ you're dieting and she wanted to do something _nice_ for you."

"Watch it with the name calling, Cracker!" she snarled back at him.

_'Cracker?' _I must have had a quizzical expression on my face because Alice explained.

"A reference to Edward's coppery hair and his temper," she said.

"Ah."

Edward growled. He obviously didn't appreciate the moniker.

"Um, it's only three points, Rosalie, four if you have it with the fruit and yoghurt topping," I told her and she eyed the plate with renewed interest.

"Ooohh, low calorie," trilled Alice happily, "I'll take them if Rosalie doesn't want them," she offered reaching for the plate.

"Back-off, Pixie," snarled Rosalie. "Four points you say, Bella?"

"Yep, only four points."

I could see by Rosalie's expression that she was torn between refusing them on principle, because I made them and she didn't want to have to thank me, and accepting them because she was starving.

"Thank you, Bella. That was very thoughtful of you," she eventually said (though it killed her to say it) and she took the plate away from Alice. I nodded in acknowledgment and let her eat in peace.

…

I spent the day with Alice going over her ideas for the house while Edward went to Port Angeles to practice the piano. He'd kissed me goodbye in the foyer by the stairs like he was leaving for a year instead of a few hours. My lips were puffy and tender when he finally let me go; not that I'm complaining you understand. I was going to talk to him about getting a piano at home again and I wondered where his piano from six years ago was. If I knew anything about Esme and Carlisle, I'd guess that the piano was in storage somewhere just waiting for Edward to decide he wanted to play it again.

Alice set us up in the dining room spreading over the long table, the hundreds of fabric samples, paint chips and wallpaper samples she'd collected from either the internet or from stores in Forks and Port Angeles. Alice made me take her to the house early last week so she could walk the rooms and get a feel for the place, take measurements and photographs. I was simply stunned at how much she'd achieved in less than two weeks. Give Alice a task and she went all out, that was certain. We sorted through the samples making a small pile for each room of the house, adding and replacing until I was happy with the overall theme and color scheme the rooms would have.

Alice had also made some sketches that were meticulously drawn to scale and which included all doors and windows as well as suggestions for furniture placement to ensure the best use of space and to encourage a pleasing flow in and between each of the rooms. A photograph of each room was tacked to the corner of each sketch and she'd even noted the placement of light switches, power points and light fixtures. The girl was amazing! Esme was right – she would make a fabulous designer and decorator and I told her so. Alice blushed but looked pleased.

"Alice, what you've already done for me is amazing," I told her. "You must have spent hours of your time on this project," I said to her but I made it sound like a question.

"Yes, but Bella, I've loved every moment of it," Alice gushed excitedly. "I never realized how satisfying it was to design a room. It's almost better than shopping for clothes!"

I laughed. I didn't believe that for a minute, not where Alice was concerned.

"Well, you really do have good taste and you've selected colors and fabrics that I really like. Your perception is uncanny."

She shrugged and blushed prettily. "I think it's just instinct. Sometimes I can look at someone and just know certain things about them, like what colors they look good in, what style and cut of clothing they should wear, how a different hairstyle or makeup application would look. I just … translated that instinct into decorating and Voila! – Bella's house is born," she said a little self-consciously.

"Alice, can you come with Edward and me to my house today at four?"

"Sure, Bella. What's going on at your house today?"

"Billy Black is a general contractor and he's going to come and look at the house; hopefully give me some estimates on how much the repairs will cost and how long they'll take. You should meet him as you're the project manager, so you'll probably be communicating with him at least as much as me."

"Okay. Um, you know, Bella, you should really think about getting your driver license," Alice suggested out of the blue, "you're going to be sixteen in three months."

"Hmm, maybe," I said unsure, "I'm not sure that I _want_ to learn to drive," I told her.

"Why not?" she asked with genuine shock.

"Um, the accident, it kinda made me nervous about it even though I wasn't driving the car."

"I'm sure it did, Bella," Alice said, gently touching my hand. "But you shouldn't let your fears rule your life, otherwise you'll never take any chances and you might never know what you're missing out on. Learning to drive will give you so much more freedom; you won't need to rely upon others to drive you around or use public transport."

"Yeah, I suppose so," I told her noncommittally, while nibbling on my lip.

"Just think about it, okay?" she made me promise.

I swallowed and nodded, and Alice changed the subject.

"So Bella, you and Edward, huh?" she asked with a big grin. I blushed.

"Yeah."

"I gotta say, Bella, that we're all pretty surprised. We had no idea you and Edward were that close," she said, fishing for information.

I squirmed. "Um, yeah, I mean no … um, I mean we've been getting to know each other and at the meadow yesterday … well it just happened," I said ambiguously.

She leaned forwarded eagerly. "What _just_ happened?"

"Um, we kissed. I mean, Edward asked if he could kiss me and I said yes, and then we were kissing each other," I told her hurriedly, blushing furiously; I could feel heat suffuse the skin of my face.

"Ooohh!" squealed Alice. "So when did he ask you to be his girlfriend and how come you punched him when he did?" she asked me avidly.

"Well he didn't – ask me that is – he pretty much just assumed I was his girlfriend and then he told me," I said.

"He _told_ you?" she repeated, aghast. I nodded. "Hmm! What guy just tells a girl that she's his girlfriend without asking?" she mused.

"_That's_ what _I_ said!" I told Alice, emphatically. "Then he opened his mouth and said a few other things I reckon he wishes he hadn't and then POW! – I was punching him in the nose before I knew what I was doing and before Edward could get out of the way," I relayed to her with a giggle having a 'girlfriend' moment with Alice.

Alice giggled with me. "Well his face is certainly colorful this morning and his nose looks like a light globe, it's so swollen and red," she said with a hint of sibling maliciousness in her tone. "I don't think he'll be doing that again."

I sighed. "Yes he will, Alice. This is Edward we're talking about, remember!"

She laughed and it sounded like a bell. "Yeah, you're absolutely right, Bella. Edward will find himself back in the dog house again and probably a lot sooner than he thinks. Can I watch next-time?" she asked gleefully, and I wasn't entirely sure she wasn't serious. I didn't answer her question, asking her one instead.

"Alice, when is Edward's birthday?"

She sent me a brief but worried look before she looked away to begin filtering through the samples in an evasive tactic I recognized well, because it was one I often used.

What was so bad about Edward's birthday? "Alice?"

"Oh, yes. Uh, it's this Sunday."

"The twentieth?" I confirmed.

"Yes," she said.

"What will the family do to celebrate?" I was already thinking about a cake and a gift for him.

"Nothing."

"_Nothing?" _I repeated, in disbelief.

"Nothing," she confirmed. "Edward doesn't like to celebrate his birthday."

_'Hmm. That sounded like me!'_

"Why?" I asked her, carefully watching her face for any tell-tale signs of worry or evasiveness. I could only think of one reason why Edward wouldn't like to celebrate his birthday.

"Edward's birthday … it's not a day he care's to remember much about," said Alice carefully.

I was silent for a moment. "Alice, does Edward's dislike of his birthday have something to do with Robert?" I asked softly.

Alice looked at me sharply, obviously shocked. "Bella, what … what do you know about Robert. Who told you?"

"Edward told me that Robert was his twin and that he died when they we're eleven. He didn't say much more, other than Robert fell and broke his … " I trailed off. The sentence didn't need to be completed. Alice knew what I would say.

Alice gulped and looked gut-wrenchingly sad; not an emotion I'd ever seen her express before.

"Alice, what's wrong?" I asked her as a tear trickled down her smooth cheek. She swiped at her face with her slender fingers and sniffed.

"Bella, Robert died on his and Edward's eleventh birthday," she whispered.

Oh God! I felt sick. "Alice, I'm so sorry. I had no idea," I told her.

She nodded. "So you see why Edward doesn't want to celebrate his birthday. I must admit that it's hard for the rest of us as well. Not Rosalie and Jasper, they didn't know Robert – they hadn't come to live with us then, but the rest of the family – for us, the 20th of June six years ago was a hellish day," she whispered, her eyes unfocused as she remembered.

"It started out so happy," she whispered.

"Mom and Dad had built a small studio for the boys so they could get them out of the garage and let the cars back in. It was away from the house, where they could 'jam' to their hearts content and not disturb us or the neighbors. They were both very musical and so very, very talented," she recalled. "They'd play impromptu concerts for us all the time," she said, lost in her memories.

I could believe they were talented, especially Edward, as I'd heard his piano music once before on his iPod.

"Edward used to have this old upright piano that once to belonged to Grandma – Mom's mother, and Robert had the acoustic guitar he got when he first started to learn to play. Even the friends they gravitated toward were musically inclined," she remembered with a light laugh.

"They had a friend who was a drummer, Garrett and another who played the trumpet, Peter. They all bonded in music class in elementary school. The four of them – these kids who were only nine and ten years old, would practice in the garage all hours of the day and into the early evening when Mom and Dad would let them and as long as the neighbors didn't complain," she told me.

Alice took a deep breath before continuing her story.

"Dad's brother Randall was an architect and he designed the studio for us. It wasn't very big in terms of square footage but its ceiling height was double volume to take advantage of the acoustic benefits. Dad and Randall decided to build a roof deck on it with a wooden railing around it. The studio was built amongst the trees in the back garden so they thought it would be a nice place to hang out and relax or read in the Summer. Dad hired a contractor to build the studio and sound-proof it, but he and Randall decided to tackle the roof deck themselves and they let Edward and Robert help."

"They got it all finished about a week before Robert and Edward's birthday and the boys moved in their musical instruments and other paraphernalia. During the following week there were a couple of really bad storms in Chicago with extremely high winds that buffeted the city for hours. A lot of buildings and city infrastructure took a beating and suffered storm damage but our property seemed to have been lucky. There was no serious damage to the house and the studio looked fine."

"What happened on their birthday?" I asked gently.

"They had a party and the boys and their friends played for us all in the new studio at the end of the afternoon – everyone had a great time. After their friends left, Robert and Edward went up to the roof deck for a bit of 'chill' time, they said. Edward took his portable keyboard with him and Robert had his acoustic guitar. They were belting out 'Born to be Wild' and Robert was really into it, jumping around and rocking back and forth on his feet like a rock star, generally just hamming it up."

"Then what happened?" I prompted her quietly, when she was silent for a long moment, lost in her thoughts.

"Robert jumped back as he finished the last riff, landing hard against the railing." Alice made a sound like a hiccoughing sob before continuing, "It just collapsed outward, Bella, and Robert hit the base of his skull on a tree branch as he fell. Edward blamed himself because he helped Uncle Randall to screw in that part of the railing system, but it wasn't their fault – the bolts were defective and the high winds had loosened the railing," she said, wiping her eyes.

I could see even after six years, talking about the accident and Robert's death still upset her.

"Edward took it hard, but it wasn't his fault, Bella. He blames himself; he says that if the railing had been _perfect_, Robert would still be alive. But it _was_ an accident, Bella; just an awful bloody accident," she said with feeling.

My heart fractured a little for Edward and the rest of the Cullen's pain. I know exactly how they all feel.

"I'm so sorry, Alice. It must have been horrible for all of you but especially for Edward because Robert was his twin and he died on their birthday," I condoled. "It's … hard to let the memories fade," I said softly, "when you have a constant reminder like a birthday that is shared with such a tragic event."

We were both silent for a long while thinking our own private thoughts.

"Alice?"

"Yes?"

"The accident that killed my Mom and Phil?" She nodded.

"It was my fifteenth birthday," I told her quietly, twisting a scrap piece of fabric I held in my hands.

She stared at me, clearly stunned that my and Edward's tragedies were so closely tied by that one special day.

"They died on my birthday as we were driving home from dinner at an Italian restaurant; and my Dad – he died on New Years Eve the year I turned eleven. I got the call at five minutes to midnight," I shared with her. "My birthday and News Year Eve will never really be happy occasions for me so I know just how Edward feels about celebrations."

"Oh, Bella, you do have a lot in common with my brother, don't you?" she said sadly, hugging me.

…

"Hey, Esme," I greeted as I walked out onto the back porch where she was having a cup of tea.

She'd finished up early in Port Angeles, so come home rather than hang around town for the rest of the day. I was waiting for Edward to come back to collect Alice and I, so we could go to my house and I wanted to ask Esme's opinion on something. I debated whether to say something to her about Robert and the coming Sunday but I decided it against it. Now wasn't the right time.

"Hello, Bella. Did you have a good day?"

"I did actually. Esme have you seen what Alice has come up with for my house?" I asked her. "It's fantastic – she really is talented," I complimented her daughter.

Esme grinned. "I have and I know," she agreed.

I chewed on my lip, not quite sure how to broach what I wanted to talk about. "Esme, I'd like to pay Alice for her work," I said in a rush.

Esme sat up straighter in her chair. "Bella, I think that's very generous of you. Have you spoken to Alice about this?"

I shook my head. "No. I wanted to ask you what a fair commission would be for this type of work before I said anything to her. She is throwing her all into it and I feel kinda guilty that she has to spend the summer without her credit card," I confessed to Esme. "I think she deserves to be paid for her hard work and dedication."

Esme blushed at the reminder. We still hadn't talked about how I hurt my knee and I was pretty certain Esme knew I'd slipped on her forgotten lime wedge. I felt guilty at alluding to it now, because I didn't want Esme to blame herself for my perpetual clumsiness.

"Bella, about your knee …" she began, before I gently cut her off.

"Esme, please. It was an accident. It's no one's fault and I shouldn't have encouraged Alice to withhold information for my benefit. Please ..." I trailed off beseechingly. Esme nodded, and then leaned forward to hug me.

"Okay, Bella. Now let's talk about a fair commission rate for Alice. My usual rate as a trained professional is anywhere from 5% to 15% of the total budget. Sometimes I work for an hourly rate or a set fee for smaller jobs or return customers. Alice is untrained but the work she's doing for you is excellent experience for her if she wants a career in design. I think that 2% of your total budget spend would be a fair commission over the course of the project."

We talked about my total budget including structural repairs and how and when I should make commission payments to Alice. Esme offered to help me with the legal and tax side of the arrangement and she also promised us the use of her trade discount card so we could get significant reductions on purchases, including furniture. I decided to tell Alice later on when we were alone as Edward was presently coasting up the driveway. I stood up and poked my head in the door to the kitchen.

"ALICE?" I yelled.

"WHAT?"

"EDWARD'S HERE!"

"I'LL BE RIGHT DOWN!"

I sat back down opposite Esme who was glaring at me. "What is _wrong_ with you kids? Do none of you know how to use the blasted intercom?" she said putting her teacup down on its saucer with an irritated clatter.

"Sorry, Esme," I said, contrite. "Bad habit," I explained, shrugging.

"You've only been here two weeks!" she responded.

…

Edward made both Alice and me wipe our feet before getting into his car because he'd stopped and had it cleaned and detailed before coming home from Port Angeles. Alice rolled her eyes in exasperation and I smiled, but we did as he asked before sliding into the immaculately clean car.

"Keep all your crap in your bag, Alice," barked Edward testily as he climbed behind the wheel.

She poked her tongue out at his back but put her sketch pad and pencils back in the satchel she carried. He saw her response in the rear-view mirror and scowled but put the car in drive and reached over the center console to take hold of my hand. I smiled shyly at him and he held it that way the whole way into town. We pulled up in front of my house a few minutes before the agreed meeting time but Billy hadn't arrived yet. Alice asked for the house keys so she could go inside and Edward and I stayed in the car.

"Come here, Beautiful," he said pulling me toward him. He met me halfway and let go of my hand to cup my face with his large ones, stroking his thumbs over my cheekbones. He kissed me gently at first, then more thoroughly. I tried to mind his nose so I wouldn't incidentally knock it with my own, but it was just in the way being twice its normal size. He hissed in pain a few times before he drew back.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

His eyebrows scrunched into a V and he shook his head at me. "Not your fault," he said. "I want to try something," he told me, holding my face up gently and firmly angled my head to the side slightly. "Don't move," he ordered with a smirk. I smirked back at him wondering what he had in mind.

I found out a few seconds later as his mouth descended upon mine again, his head angled away from me so our noses wouldn't collide. I held very still as he moved his mouth against mine, only moving my mouth against his – I didn't suppose he meant that I shouldn't move my mouth, just not my head. We kissed like that until a truck pulled up in front of us and we broke apart. Thank goodness the late afternoon was drizzly because our passion had fogged up the windows giving us some semblance of privacy.

Edward got out of the car and came around to open my door for me and help me from the car. A tall man of Native American descent climbed from the truck and a young man about Emmett's age got out of the passenger side. He was very muscular and a couple of inches taller than Billy who I assumed was his dad because they shared similar features and mannerisms in the way they stood and held their hats.

This must be Jacob Black. He was eying me like I was a cream cake he wanted to consume and he licked his lips making me feel instantly uncomfortable. I swallowed and looked away from him, focusing my attention on Billy instead. Edward noticed and growled low at Jacob, aggravated by his audacious behavior. Frankly, I was aggravated as well – we hadn't even been introduced yet! I hoped he wouldn't be working on my house with his dad because that would be a deal-breaker for me and by the look of Edward's infuriated visage, for him as well.

Billy walked toward Edward and I as Jacob brought up the rear with an insolent look on his face looking me up and down from head to toe. I squirmed and wished I hadn't worn the tight jeans I had on – I'd worn them for Edward's benefit. Jacob took note of Edward's arm around my waist and he sneered.

"Bella? I'm Billy Black," he said respectfully, introducing himself and holding out his hand in greeting.

I placed my hand in his large grasp. "Hi, Billy. It's nice to meet you again. It's been a long time," I said by way of a conversation opener.

"Yes. It certainly has. You were just a little kid with pigtails when I last saw you," he told me with a chuckle. "You've certainly grown into a lovely young lady," he complimented me. Jacob coughed behind his father, drawing his attention. Obvious much!

"Oh, Bella, this is my son, Jacob. He'll be going to school with you in the Fall."

"Hello," I said, keeping my hand in my pocket. "This is _my _boyfriend, Edward Cullen," I told them. I vaguely remembered Jacob as a kid not that I ever hung around with him or anything. I don't remember him being such a twerp though. Alice chose that moment to come bounding down the front steps to meet the Black's.

"Hi, I'm Alice," she said introducing herself. "I'm helping Bella with the house," she told them straight off the bat. No mucking around with this girl. I loved her!

"Okay, so let's get started," Alice said briskly, noting Jacob's inappropriate appraisal of me. Edward kept up a low growl of warning beside me and he bared his teeth at Jacob at one point when Billy wasn't looking. Jacob smirked but didn't back down. Jacob was gonna be a big problem – I hoped he wasn't going to be in any of my classes when we went back to school.

We collectively walked over to stand in front of my house; the drizzle had abated but the air was thick with moisture. I nodded at Alice and she took over the interview, discussing with Billy all of the things we'd already noted about the house's general condition. Jacob sidled up beside me and Edward moved me away so he was between me and Jacob.

"Scared she might like me better?" he taunted Edward under his breath.

"Not on your life, Black!" he snarled, shoving him in the gut with his forearm to push him away.

Jacob stumbled back a step but didn't back off. "What happened to your face, pretty boy?" he sneered. "Did you piss somebody off with your 'perfectionist' ways?" he laughed snidely.

I thought he was an ugly boy; not in appearance but in character. Edward's mouth tightened in fury and his fists clenched. I tensed and placed my injured hand on his forearm to calm him. Edward looked at me and I shook my head at him infinitesimally, my eyes pleading with him to let it go. Jacob noticed.

"Taking orders from the little girlfriend, are you, Cullen?" he scoffed. "That's a change!"

Edward stiffened. "Fuck off, Black," he hissed quietly.

"Or you'll what?" Jacob responded rashly.

Edward leaned in and snarled at him. "Or I'll finish what you started before school finished for the summer," he promised him, "and this time, I might even involve the sheriff," he threatened quietly.

"Sheriff's my cousin," Jacob retaliated. "He's not gonna do nothin' about it 'cept maybe arrest you when I press charges against you for assault," he bragged arrogantly.

"The sheriff is a sworn law enforcement officer," Edward said, "and the Chief of Police. He has to uphold the law and protect the innocent regardless of who his relatives are. How do you think he'll feel, Black, when I tell him about your extra-curricular activities?"

"You've got no proof, Cullen, or you woulda used it by now!" he jeered, but he was beginning to look worried, I noticed.

"I've got plenty of proof, Black and I'm not afraid to use it. Now, you stay away from me, you stay away from Bella and you stay away from my family. Do you understand me?" Edward warned him.

"Fuck you, Cullen," replied Jacob as he swung away. "DAD," he yelled, "I'm going over to Embry's," he said, storming off.

"Be home by curfew, Jacob," was all Billy said, as he continued his conversation with Alice, looking completely befuddled by the bossy pixie of a girl in front of him.

I chuckled, then turned to ask Edward about Jacob. He was staring lividly at Jacob's departing back as he jogged down the street.

"Edward, what was that all about?" I asked him.

"Stay away from him, Bella," he ordered peering at me intently. His eyes shone with a mix of worry and anger.

I nodded. "Alright, I will, but what was that all about? What evidence to you have against him, and what about?"

"He's trouble, Bella, big trouble. Trouble that Billy Black doesn't deserve," Edward said through clenched teeth.

I raised my brow and waited for a more satisfying explanation. Edward huffed and rolled his eyes, a habit he seemed to have picked up from me, rather like my newly acquired habit from him, of yelling through the house to get someone's attention.

"He's a drug dealer, Bella."

I gasped. "What evidence do you have on him?" I asked worriedly, wondering if Edward had bought drugs from him. My expression must have spoken volumes because Edward huffed and put his arms about me hugging me.

"No, nothing like that, Bella. But he did take advantage of someone I care about and I don't forgive lightly. Promise me you'll stay away from him and tell me immediately if he bothers you," he said insistently.

I nodded. "I promise," I whispered. "It wasn't one of us was it?"

"Who?" he asked, confused.

"The person you said you care about that Jacob took advantage of … was it one of your brothers and sisters?"

He smiled because I'd referred to myself as a Cullen when I used 'us' before. "No, Bella. But he's a sheep in wolfs clothing and he's very good at manipulation. He'll make you think this altercation was something else entirely."

"I don't like him, Edward. You don't have to worry about me. I won't be going anywhere near him if I can help it," I promised him just as Alice waved us over to join her and Billy inside the house.

Alice and I spoke with Billy at length about the structural repairs required to the inside of the house while Edward stood in the foyer and brooded. Alice shot me a questioning look and I indicated silently that I'd fill her in later. We walked through the house then decided that Billy would give us an estimate to repair the stair banister and the damaged plaster ceilings as well as to refurbish the existing kitchen using the original cabinets – new doors, counter top and tile installation would be included. I asked about installing some cabinetry in the laundry and refurbishing the bathrooms.

We agreed on new toilets and tap fittings and a repair and re-grout of the tile. Alice and I would source all of the cosmetic fittings and have them delivered to the house. Billy would arrange for a local electrician and plumber and he said he could refinish the timber floors on the lower level as well and I decided on carpet for the upstairs hallway and bedrooms because it was warmer underfoot. The remaining renovation tasks like cleaning and painting would be done by all of us. Alice already had a schedule of works drawn up, which would begin tomorrow after breakfast.

Billy indicated that the exterior of the house was in reasonable condition but the roof probably needed some repair to make it water tight and it needed new gutters and down spouts. Some of the siding needed replacing close to the foundation and it was in desperate need of a new coat of paint. The garage was dry and he said I could use it if I wanted to. He agreed to come back the next day with his ladder so he could get on the roof and have a good look around then send me an estimate by the end of the week. Alice and I thanked him and walked him out.

Edward was standing stock still in the middle of the foyer lost in thought and he didn't react when I walked right up to him.

"Edward," I said quietly, taking hold of his hand to get his attention.

"Huh?" he startled, looking down at me.

"We can go, Edward. We're finished and Billy left."

"Okay, Baby," he replied, kissing my forehead. "Let's go," he said leading us from the house and locking the door behind Alice.

"_Baby?"_ Alice mouthed silently to me.

I shrugged but I was kinda pleased; I liked the affectionate nickname he'd called me. Edward drove us home but was quiet in the car. He held my hand again, somewhat more firmly than he did on the drive to my house and I could tell he was worried about Jacob Black. I tried to reassure him by placing my hand on his leg above his knee and giving it a little squeeze. He shuddered in reaction and I grinned.

…

By 9 o'clock on Wednesday morning, Edward was once again driving me to Port Angeles for my weekly therapy sessions with Jane and Felix. I had been religiously practicing my speech exercises and I felt there was an improvement in my enunciation. It was subtle, but I'm positive I wasn't imagining it. I wondered why Edward hadn't asked me about the speech therapy yet and I decided I needed to tell him about my injuries. As my boyfriend, he deserved to know.

Edward drove fast but expertly down highway 101. All of the Cullen's were expert drivers and they all drove fast, except for Esme who followed the posted speed limit. I studied Edward's face in profile noting with relief that the swelling in his nose had started to subside (thank goodness) and the bruises under his eyes were beginning to fade.

Edward was relieved beyond belief that Billy would be taking care of all of the major work at the house and I wouldn't be using any 'stinking chop saw'. His words; not mine. I still needed other tools like a cordless drill, sander and router but they were less lethal than the chop saw so he restrained himself and didn't comment; much!

Alice had us all at my house yesterday morning at 8 o'clock. She handed out work assignments and Edward threw something of a tantrum when she gave him his. He had to clean the master ensuite bathroom. He yelled that the room was a bio-hazard of toxic waste and he wasn't touching it under pain of death. I swapped assignments with him because Alice was just being evil and he cleaned the bedroom out instead.

I drove into the Forks town center with Emmett so we could hire a trailer to take the rubbish to the dump and bring home the furniture that needed refinishing (Rosalie was going to let me use her workshop in the garage). Emmett leased the trailer because he was eighteen and I paid for it. We had it for three days then it had to go back. The three guys spent most of the day dragging rubbish, broken furniture and old carpet out of the house. They made four trips to the dump before it was ready to load with the furniture I'd marked as 'keeping'.

There wasn't much of Charlie's possessions worth keeping; most of it was lost beyond all repair but I did save the old kitchen table and the side board in the dining room as well as an old cast iron bed from the third bedroom upstairs.

Rosalie declared the fridge in decent working order if somewhat disgusting but she said the dishwasher and the dryer were both cactus and would need to be chucked out. The washing machine needed a new drum belt and a good clean, but otherwise it was fine to use. I'd decided on a new stove because the other one was simply disgusting beyond anything I could explain. I won't tell you what was crawling around inside it.

I was exhausted after cleaning the ensuite bathroom one-handed and the toilet almost made me spew. I gagged repeatedly over the newly cleaned basin fortifying myself to tackle it again. I poured an entire bottle of toilet cleaner in it and closed the lid coming back to it in an hour. Alice girded her loins and tackled the family bathroom upstairs. It was just as bad as the ensuite and I met her in the hallway where she was breathing deeply and looking green around the gills.

"That toilet is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen or smelled," she gasped.

"I know. I dumped an entire bottle of toilet cleaner in mine," I told her, commiserating with her.

Anyone who would clean a toilet like one of these in a house they'd never lived in, was a true friend. Alice was going to earn every cent of her commission. She was thrilled when I told her about it and said she'd love me forever. I only smiled and told her that she'd already earned it and she was getting a bonus for the toilet. Thankfully, we were installing new ones, but I couldn't ask Billy to take out the toilets in their current condition and we needed something we could use ourselves until then.

Alice sent Jasper and Emmett back to the house today to wash grime off the walls and ceiling so they could be repaired and prepared for painting. Rosalie drove into Port Angeles for the parts she needed to repair the appliances and I gave her some cash to cover gas and the cost of the stuff she needed. Alice was at home, sourcing well-priced carpet, tile and other fittings for the house. I told her about a website called Etsy that show-cased cottage workers who made things like cushion covers and curtains using a lot of the fabric's we'd chosen. She promised to check it out and she was completely captivated by the Ikea website when Edward and I left this morning.

Edward walked me inside VRC and kissed me goodbye as Jane came out to greet me. He promised to be back in two hours and went to practice piano. Jane confirmed that my enunciation was improved and encouraged me to continue with my exercises. I told her about what happened last Wednesday afternoon and how my reaction affected my speech. I didn't remember that, but Edward told me about it so I could tell Jane.

"I know it's distressing, Bella, but you knew this might happen if you became stressed or upset."

I nodded but it didn't make me feel any less embarrassed or self-conscious.

"How long was it before you could speak clearly again?" she asked with her pen poised over my chart, prepared to take more notes.

"Um, about two hours all together, I think," I told her, "but I was unconscious for an hour of it so I don't know if that counts," I quantified hopefully.

"Could you speak when you regained consciousness?"

"Yes, after a few words – my throat was sore and scratchy." She scribbled some more comments.

"Bella, can I call Carlisle for an update?" she asked my permission, and I nodded.

My session with Felix went well and he commented on the definition I'd developed in my calf muscles. The scar wasn't any less angry looking but it was softer from all of the Bio Oil I'd been applying. I told him I'd been using the stairs at home as much as possible and walking everyday as well as doing the prescribed exercises. He praised me and then scolded me because I hadn't taken up swimming yet like he'd suggested. I promised him that I would look into over the next week. I'd noticed the Aquatic Center in Forks when Emmett and I went to get the trailer yesterday so I had no excuse not to go.

…

I was waiting for Edward to arrive when my phone rang. It was Jenks returning my call. I answered and immediately launched into an apology.

"There's no need, Bella. I understand that finding out about your parents Wills is upsetting, especially for a woman as young as you are after the year you've had," he said.

He paused. "That young man of yours is certainly a lion isn't he?" he commented.

"What do you mean?" I asked him, confused.

"Well he was very angry and rather distressed himself when he collected you last week. He was rather … volatile in his defense of you," he told me, then chuckled. "I had to take him to task over it. I don't think that's happened to him before," he noted incisively.

I gulped. "Wha … what did he say to you?" I gasped. "I'm so sorry, Jenks ..."

"Don't you worry, Bella. I like a young man that defends his friends. Now, did you receive the letter and the funds we talked about?" he asked, closing the subject.

"Yes, thank you, Jenks. I've arranged with a local contractor in Forks to give me an estimate for the structural repairs. He's also going to estimate on the most pressing repairs inside the house. I'll send it to you next week," I told him.

We talked for a few more minutes before I rang off as I saw Edward's car pull up outside the main doors. I walked outside and he opened my door for me, kissing me tenderly before handing me into the passenger seat.

"Where would you like to go for lunch?" he asked me as he drove out onto the street.

"Esme told me about a place on east First Street," I told him. "It's called 'Cafe Garden'. Can we go there?"

"Coming right up," he agreed, reaching for my hand to hold it on the center console again. He held our hands there for a minute, and then moved them so my hand was resting on his leg near his knee like I'd done on Monday. I moved my fingers lightly over the inner seam of his jeans and smiled when he hissed but I didn't remove my hand.

Over our wonderful lunch of _Shrimp and Basil Linguine_ and the _House Spinach Salad, _I asked Edward about his 'discussion' with Jenks last week. He flushed and fidgeted in his seat and stuttered out an explanation, but I let him off the hook and told him that Jenks was pleased that he'd defended me so well.

"Um, Bella?" said Edward hesitantly, over our coffee and dessert of shared chocolate cake.

"Hmm?" I responded distractedly, savoring the rich chocolaty confection.

"I'd like to take you to the auditorium this afternoon," he said a little shyly.

I swallowed hard, the cake suddenly a lump in my mouth and throat. He was going to play for me. I nodded eagerly and grinned at him, so happy that he was willing to play for me in person.

He laughed. "I gather from your reaction, that you're pleased?"

"Ah, yeah!"

"Okay, finish up and we'll go," he said, forking off a piece of cake and dipping it into the whipped cream on the side of the plate. He ate two pieces, tasting it thoroughly, then told me it was good but not as good as the one I'd made for us on Sunday. I blushed and sipped at my coffee to hide my face.

…

The auditorium at the community college was large and well appointed for a population of around nineteen thousand people. Edward held my hand and led me down the aisle between the rows of seats looking upon the stage. In the middle of the stage was a grand piano. Its lid was open and the stage lights were on, spotlighting the instrument. Edward seated me in the front row where I could see him and he could see me. I kissed him gently on the lips for luck as he straightened and walked up the stairs to the stage removing his jacket and placing it over the back of a chair. I could see he was nervous and he blew out a deep breath as he sat before the large piano.

Edward began his concert for an audience of one with Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata playing the notes with artistry and precision. Though I was no connoisseur of piano music, I thought his playing was beautiful and he segued into Elton John's 'Can you feel the love tonight' from the Lion King which brought me to tears of joy. The Lion King was my favorite movie when I was a little girl. I was only a baby when it was first released in the cinema's but Dad got it for me on video when I was about five years old and I nearly wore it out I watched it so often.

When he'd played the last notes, I stood up and went to him as fast as I could up onto the stage. I still couldn't run, but I could walk fast. He turned on the piano bench as I reached him, pulling me between his parted legs. He held me close to his chest as I hugged him tightly.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, when he noticed my tears.

"Nothing," I sniffed. "That was so beautiful, Edward, you are so talented. Please get a piano at home," I rushed out without thinking.

He stiffened and pushed me away slightly with a frown of irritation on his face.

"No!" he almost yelled, then softened his expression and his voice. "It's too soon, Bella. Not yet," he pleaded with me.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to push you. I just want everyone to hear what I do when you play," I explained, kissing him on his mouth in apology.

"I know, Baby and I thank you for it. Um, I made you something," he said pulling a CD from his jacket on the chair beside him. He pulled me onto his lap and handed it to me. "It's, um, a selection of songs I recorded for you including these two and the one I'm about to play for you," he told me shyly.

"I love it, Edward. It's the best present you could have ever given me," I told him honestly.

I held my injured hand against his face and bent down to kiss him, nibbling on his top lip until he opened his mouth and he let me slide my tongue inside. He met me halfway and tangled his tongue with mine deepening our kiss until I was panting. Wow! You'd never guess that on Sunday I'd never been kissed before. A few hours of Edward's tutelage and I was a flaming pro at it. Edward moaned low in his throat and shifted me onto the bench beside him and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He stood up and adjusted his pants slightly in front. I grinned. I wasn't ready to take that step with Edward yet, but I kinda liked the reaction I had on him.

Edward began the opening chords to Debussy's 'Claire de Lune', playing the hauntingly beautiful music without looking at the sheet music on the stand. He watched me the entire time he played, staring into my eyes while his knowing fingers pressed the keys, producing the notes perfectly. I was totally lost in his deep emerald green gaze. There was something indefinable shining from them as he looked upon me, something I couldn't yet name; until the end.

As he played the final chords, about three things I was absolutely certain.

First, Edward was totally in love with me – his eyes couldn't lie.

Second, there was a part of him – that was getting stronger every day, that ached to play the piano again without the stigma of guilt and anger in his heart.

And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Edward Anthony Cullen and I didn't ever want to give him up.

…

A/N: Please review. They keep me writing.

Go to my blog (the link to my website is on my profile page) for photos from this chapter including an image of how I imagine Edward and Robert looked at 11 years old. I have also uploaded some music (it was the best I could find) – Moonlight Sonata, Can you feel the love tonight and Claire de Lune.

A 2% commission on a total reno budget of $40,000 is $800. That's not a bad income in my book for a just turned 17 year-old girl with absolutely no experience.

Etsy is a real website and it's worth checking out if you want soft furnishings or other handmade items, but buy at your own risk as you are not buying from Etsy. I live in Australia and I bought all of my curtains and pillow-cushion covers from the US and Canada. The workmanship was excellent and the items were well priced even with the shipping cost. The website is: www dot etsy dot com

Another good site is: www dot bemz dot com based in Europe. They make fitted covers for every upholstered item of Ikea furniture ever made. The quality is pretty good. Again, buy at your own risk but they have a wide selection of fabrics and about 100 different colors and patterns to choose from.

Cafe Garden Restaurant on First Street, Port Angeles really does exist and according to their website has a wonderful menu. Independent reviews I read praised the restaurant for their food and service. I've never eaten there.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer. The story and any new characters belong to me.

Beta'd by Marshmellow007

A/N: I know I said in my chapter 10 A/N, that chapter 11 would include Edward's birthday, but this chapter took on a life of its own so I've decided to go with it – it's a short one. Edward's birthday will now be a couple of chapters away – sorry.

This chapter includes an assault scene that may be distressing to any reader that has experienced assault before. There is no rape. I have included the underlined word start where the scene begins if you wish to skip that section.

…

Chapter 11 – Fear

I held my mom's jewelery in the palm of my hand idly looking them over. I had them for over a week but I hadn't looked at them, until now. The rings Phil gave my mom, weren't really my taste at all but Mom loved them and she picked them out with Phil after he proposed to her. The rings from my dad were more precious to me because Dad gave them to Mom and the engagement ring in particular was more my taste than the ring from Phil. Mom's first engagement ring was a single white gold band with a brilliant cut diamond in the Tiffany style.

I noticed that the rings from Dad needed to be cleaned and I resolved to drop them off at a jewelers later when I went into town. I tried them on the ring finger of my left hand; they were a perfect fit – I must have Renee's hands. I took them off and tried them on the ring finger of my right hand – they were a little tight but I think my fingers were still a little swollen from punching Edward in the nose. I wanted to feel closer to my parents so I was toying with the idea of wearing the rings on my right hand.

I picked up Mom's gold cross that had a tiny diamond in the center where the two pieces intersected to form the cross. It was dull and tarnished from disuse and would need to be cleaned before I could wear it. I wanted to get a new chain for it as well because the clasp was broken on the existing one. The necklace had belonged to my grandmother – Mom's mother, but I never knew her because she died before I was born. My grandmothers dainty wrist watch wasn't something I thought I'd ever wear (well not on a daily basis anyway) because it was a little old fashioned having been made sometime in the late 1950's. The gold link bracelet with a heart charm was a gift to Mom from Phil and I thought I might wear that more often than I would the watch.

I put aside Mom's rings from my dad, as well as the gold cross and put the rest of the jewelery back in the black satin bag they'd been stored in when I got them from Jenks. I tucked it back into my underwear drawer for safekeeping as my thoughts drifted to Edward and his birthday present.

I'd had an idea last night about the gift I wanted to give Edward for his birthday but I needed a bit of help from Carlisle and Esme to make it possible; they said they had what I needed and Esme would get them to me before lunch today. I was rather nervous that they'd be upset about what I asked for but they weren't and they really loved the idea. I wanted to give Edward some framed photographs to hang over his bed to replace the images he already had of partially naked women. They were art pieces, but it didn't mean I had to like them, especially hanging over my boyfriend's bed!

I know from my conversation with Alice that Edward doesn't want a big fuss made about his birthday, but I wanted to mark the day with him by giving him something that I hoped would find a special place in his heart like the CD he'd made of his piano music, had for me.

Edward was a bit broody today and he'd gone surfing with his brothers since the sun was shining again – it was just as well because I'd be busy all day with his gift and I didn't want him catching wind of it or become suspicious about what I was doing. The guys didn't ask any of the girls along to the beach but none of us where upset about it. We all knew that Edward needed some alone time this close to his birthday which he could get out on the waves. His brothers would be there to make sure he didn't descend too much into a quagmire of depression and irritation, which is probably what would happen if left to his own devices.

I'd asked Jasper this morning (the computer geek of the house) whether I could use his computer and we downloaded some software before he went surfing. I had similar software on my laptop but my stuff hadn't arrived yet from Florida, so I had to improvise a bit. I asked Jasper not to say anything to Edward and he said it was okay to use his room since that's were his laptop, printer and laser scanner were.

While I was waiting for the photographs from Esme, I decided to take the bus into Forks, go to the jewelers, find a photo shop and then be home around lunchtime. I found a bus timetable using Jasper's computer and noted a stop about one hundred yards down the road from the Cullen's driveway. The bus was due in thirty minutes, so I decided to head out now because the Cullen's had a long driveway and it would take me awhile to walk its length to the road. There was no one about when I went down stairs, so I left a note on the fridge and headed off.

I made the walk to the bus stop in the sparkling sunshine and only had to wait for five minutes before the bus came. I bought a ticket and found a seat in the middle section of the bus. I enjoyed the leisurely trip into town; the slower pace of the bus and its frequent stops making it possible to take note of the scenery and any landmarks of interest.

The bus arrived on the outskirts of town and two young men in their early twenties sauntered down the aisle of the bus to get off. The tall blond guy in the pair slowed as he passed me and turned around to stare at me licking his lips lasciviously. He didn't touch me but his appraisal of me made me nervous and gave me the creeps. I turned my head away to look out the window and he blew me a kiss as he passed by on the outside.

The elderly lady beside me muttered something about 'lazy-no-account youths up to no good' and patted my hand sympathetically. I smiled wanly at her and sat silently until the bus arrived in the town center and I could get off, somewhat relieved that the pair had gotten off the bus earlier. I forgot about them as I wandered down the street to find a jeweler.

Forks wasn't a very large town with a population of around 3,500 people and a sole traffic light at the only major intersection in town. Forks had everything you needed though for everyday living needs, and a few extra's as well like a jeweler, a photo shop, a picture framer, a cinema and the public pool. If I had time, I decided to drop by the Aquatic center on my way home and pick up a brochure about their swimming and exercise program. I found the jeweler and pushed the glass door open making the bell on the top of the door tinkle, announcing my arrival.

"Hi," I greeted the middle aged woman behind the counter.

"Can I help you?" she asked with a pleasant smile.

"Yes. I'd like to have some jewelery cleaned please. Can you do that for me?"

"Sure, Honey. What have you got?"

I pulled the folded handkerchief I'd wrapped around the jewelery from my shoulder bags inside pocket and placed it on the counter to unfold it.

"I have my mother's wedding rings and a gold cross," I told her.

The saleswoman picked up the engagement ring and held a magnifying eye-piece up to her eye to inspect the ring. She did the same with the wedding band and the gold cross.

"The diamond ring is lovely, Dear, but the stone needs to be reset otherwise you're going to lose it. Would you like us to take care of that for you as well?"

"How much will it cost" I asked her, "to have that done and have all of the items cleaned? I also want to buy a new chain for the cross," I told her so she'd calculate the correct price for me.

She tallied up the total charge which was within my budget so I said yes and she told me to come back on Saturday to pick the jewelery up. I spent ten minutes choosing a new gold chain paying for it in total, as well as leaving a deposit on the cleaning and reset of the diamond. I asked her to thread the cross onto the chain for me once it was cleaned and she gave me a receipt. I left the store and wandered down the street looking for a photo shop when I happened across a bookstore. They had an interesting display in the front window so I went inside to have a look around.

Time passed far too quickly in the bookstore, like it always does for me in one of the only two shops I ever liked to browse in, the other one being a kitchenware store. I became lost in the narrow aisles of books, shelved floor to ceiling and I gravitated toward the classic literature section at the back of the store. It was nearing 11 o'clock by the time I paid for the books I'd selected and left the store. I bought a new copy of Pride and Prejudice in order to preserve the disintegrating copy my dad gave me, as well as the first book in a contemporary series of four volumes, called 'Twilight'. It was about a human girl who falls in love with a vampire – I scoffed at the premise, but I remembered most of my friends raving about the book series and subsequent movies a couple of years ago. I decided to expand my literary horizons and read something that wasn't written by an author who died two hundred years ago.

I spotted the photo shop across the street and waited for a gap in the traffic so I could cross safely. I purchased some photographic paper (the best they had available) but they didn't have any white gloves for handling the photographs so I looked around for a lingerie store. I found one a few doors down from the photo shop and I bought their last pair of gloves, and then went into the small hardware store on the corner for a soft brush which I found in the artists supply section.

I was heading to the bus stop nearest the Aquatic center to return home with my bag of books and photographic supplies when I found myself in an unfamiliar area. I'd been somewhat preoccupied by my task for the afternoon, eagerly anticipating the photos Esme and Carlisle would have found for me by now. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and because of that I found myself in an alleyway that I'd never seen before. I looked around in all directions trying to get my bearings by catching sight of a recognizable landmark but nothing looked familiar to me; I was completely lost.

The weather had changed about thirty minutes ago when ominous clouds rolled in from the west threatening to dump rain at any minute. It had grown colder and darker because of it, making the alleyway seem even more isolated and creepy than it actually was. I could see occasional traffic passing at the other end of the alleyway so I decided to keep walking forward and find my way to the bus stop once I came back out onto the street. I was about half way down the alleyway when the two guys I'd seen on the bus turned into the alleyway in front of me; they halted and stared at me and I think the blond guy recognized me because he blew me another kiss. I gulped nervously and looked around but there was no one about. I debated whether to keep walking forward and brazen it out or turn back and try to retrace my steps to where I came into the alleyway in the first place but I wasn't sure where I was and my nervousness was making me hesitant.

Instead I turned down another alleyway, a narrow lane, which intersected with the one I was in, walking as fast as I could. I shoved the shopping bag of purchases into my roomy shoulder bag and zipped it up. If by the Grace of God I got out of this situation unharmed I didn't want to have to repurchase the items I needed for Edward's gift.

It's strange isn't it, the stupid things we think and do when we find ourselves in a threatening situation. Most of you are probably yelling at me right now to, _'drop the effing bag and run you silly bitch', _but that's not what I did.

I heard their footsteps about twenty feet behind me as the western-style boots they wore (I noticed them on the bus) clattered ominously against the uneven road surface which also served to slow me down because I was afraid of tripping. I was being followed and I felt my breaths start to come in rapid gasps in the classic fight or flight reaction.

_'Don't panic, don't hyperventilate; don't panic, don't hyperventilate,' _I chanted silently. I hurried as fast as I could toward a group of buildings I could see behind a high chain-link fence and I realized a little too late that I wasn't in a particularly 'nice' area of Forks anymore. I eventually exited after what felt like a life-time of hurried walking, but the lane dead ended into a deserted car park at the rear of a small group of abandoned factories.

_'Shit!'_

It was getting darker and colder with every passing second and the icy wind blew down the lane swirling around the barren car park like a small tornado catching at my clothes and blowing up the skirt of the sundress I'd worn because it was such a lovely day when I left home this morning. I whimpered and vowed silently that today would be the last time I _ever_ wore a dress – I mean, I probably would, but it made me feel better to make a vow at a time like this and it was the only thing I could think of. I shivered but it wasn't entirely from the cold wind. There was a huge dose of fear and panic thrown into the mix because there was no discernible escape from the situation I was in, and nowhere to run to. I was trapped!

Start:

I felt the large hand of one of my aggressors take hold of my left shoulder from behind and grasp it firmly, his thick fingers pressing against my collarbone and halting my forward movement. I wheeled around and backed up against the chain-link fence, my shoulder bag swinging against my side as I did so. I gulped and felt the sudden urge to pee because I was so scared. I'd never been so afraid for my physical well-being before, not even in the accident, because that was something I had no control over and I wasn't being threatened by two thugs who probably wanted to rape me.

I screamed silently for Edward and fought back tears of fear and frustration that I'd gotten myself into this situation by not paying attention. I wouldn't give these two assholes the pleasure of knowing how very afraid of them I was … yet.

"What do you want?" I gasped out. "Leave me alone!"

"Now don't be like that, Sweetheart," said the blond guy, and raucous laughter erupted from him and his friend standing beside him. Blond guy smirked viciously and reached out his hand to stroke a dirty finger down my face from my temple to my jaw. I closed my eyes and prayed that someone would come along.

"We just wanna have a little fun with you," he said, leaning closer to inhale my scent. His breath was rancid with the smell of unwashed teeth and stale beer and I wanted to gag. His hand stroked my hair which I'd left unbound but held back from my face with a tortoiseshell headband. I cringed involuntarily and whimpered; I couldn't help it.

"Oh, the little girl's afraid of me, Laurent. Did you hear that?" blond guy gloated to the darker skinned man with long black dreadlocks who was now standing on my other side. They'd managed to herd me against the fence like a wild animal and place themselves into positions of power over me, ensuring I had no hope of escaping, and I knew I couldn't run let alone walk fast enough to get away from them.

Blond guy suddenly fisted my flying hair and yanked my head back bringing his free hand up to grab hold of my jaw, trying to prying it open by applying pressure. He pressed his mouth against mine viciously trying to force his way inside but I refused to open my mouth. Blond guy bit down hard on my lips to make me open my mouth and I gasped in pain, but that small sound was enough of an opening for him to shove his tongue inside. I gagged, struggling uselessly against his powerful hold on me. I used the only defensive weapon I had – my teeth, biting down hard on his tongue until he screamed and let go of me, only to deliver a vicious backhand across my face causing me to stumble.

"Hmm," Dreadlocks guy murmured, circling around blond guy to my other side. Blond guy moved into the position that dreadlocks guy had stood in a moment ago; blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth and I was horrified that I might have swallowed some when I bit his tongue. Nausea roiled in my gut but I fought it down, _'Not now!'_ My heart was pounding in my chest and my breaths were coming in rapid gasps as fear overtook me and my body's natural instincts took control.

"_Ouais_, James, she does seem to be a little skittish," agreed dreadlocks guy, answering Blond guys earlier question with what sounded to me like a French accent, and given his name and the brief amount of French he spoke, I thought it likely that he was in fact, French!

_'Fuuuck! Who cares if the asshole's French; it isn't gonna make any difference while I'm being raped. Focus on that, Bella and think of a way out of this!'_

"Um, my fr...friends will be lo...looking f..f...for m...me," I stuttered out through my swelling mouth where Blond guy had hit me. I squeezed my eyes shut – '_Shit!' – _and tears of frustration and fear seeped from beneath my lids.

"Oh look, James, the little girl is crying. Boo hoo," Dreadlocks guy crowed, and then they both laughed nastily, circling around each other again until they were back in their original positions on either side of and in front of me. I tried to follow their movements with an eye on each of them but I just ended up cross-eyed and it made my head hurt. I knew their names but I _refused_ to acknowledge them by using them, even in my own head.

"Your friends aren't here, Honey," sneered blond guy as he wiped the blood from his mouth. We saw you on the bus, remember. You're all alone in Forks today with no one to _get_ you … except us!" he cackled.

I could hardly breathe now and I felt myself getting a lightheaded because I was expelling too much carbon dioxide and my blood was saturated with oxygen (Yay for health class!). I knew I was hyperventilating and if I passed out, I had no hope of getting out of this situation without being raped or worse. I desperately wanted to pee and I tried to subtly squeeze my legs together in the hope they wouldn't notice.

Dreadlocks guy reached out his hand and flicked at the neckline of my sweater. I recoiled against the chain-link fence until I felt the hard diamond shapes of the metal pressing along my shoulders and spine. He grinned evilly and trailed his fingers across my upper chest and down into the neckline of my dress. I stiffened in terror, afraid to move but desperately wanting to flee at the same time. He slid two fingers beneath my bra homing in on my nipple and flicking it with the edge of his sharp nails. My nipple hardened involuntarily in reaction to the despicable sensation but I couldn't stop my body's reactions to stimuli as much as I wanted to.

Dreadlocks guy leered at me and licked his lips, then pinched and twisted the nipple of my right breast hard, causing pain to shoot through the sensitive nerve endings. I whimpered, losing control of my bladder until I felt the hot pee trickling down the inside of my leg.

_'Oh, God! Oh, God! This is it – this is how I'll meet my end! The Grim Reaper didn't get me in the crash, so he was going to get me this way. It didn't make any difference to him; as long as I succumbed.'_

_'NO!' _

I stiffened my resolve and somehow found the strength to tighten my kegel muscles to stop the flow. I would _not _be found raped and murdered lying in a pool of my own urine! I looked around me frantically, looking for a weapon, anything that I could use to defend myself, but there was nothing that wasn't locked behind the chain-link fence. _'Shit!'_

"My turn!" yipped Blond guy excitedly, pushing Dreadlocks guy away from me.

Blond guy grabbed hold of my injured hand which was still strapped over the thumb and tightened his grip until I screamed in agony and fell to my knees on the hard ground. Black flashing auras, warning of an imminent faint, flashed in front of my eyes blinding me temporarily. My shoulder bag fell from my shoulder and I heard it skittering across the ground coming to a stop when it collided with something stationary. It must have been Dreadlocks guy, because I heard the sound of a boot kicking it aside.

Dreadlocks guy crouched down in front of me and stared me in the eyes. His intense gaze was almost hypnotic but my eyes wouldn't focus properly through the barely diminishing black auras and the flood of my tears. I was suddenly more afraid of Dreadlocks guy than I was Blond guy.

A flash of lightening reflected off a painted sign making his eyes appear blood red for a long moment. I gulped and fought down the rising nausea again recognizing with utter clarity, one ugly truth at that very moment – Dreadlocks guy was the personification of evil, the likes of which I've never know before and hoped to never find again.

"BOO!" Dreadlocks guy yelled without warning. I jumped and gasped in terror, scraping my knees over the rough road.

Then I understood what they were doing – they weren't just going to rape me and get it over with – they were playing with me like a cat torments a mouse; predator and prey, and I wouldn't be free until they were done.

_'I love you, Edward,' _I told him silently, and prepared to die.

…

A/N: Please review, please! I've got lots of favorite and story alert notifications, so I know you're all reading but very few reviews, though the ones I do have are fantastic and very complimentary.

French to English translation: _Ouais = Yeah_

Chapter 11 photos (nothing too terrible) are on my blog – the link to the website is on my profile.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: All recognizable characters and the Twilight Saga belong to Stephenie Meyer. The story and any new characters belong to me.

I am posting this unbeta'd, but I will replace it if I need to when Marshmellow007 has given it the spelling, grammar and punctuation once over!

A/N: This chapter is all about Edward; what he thinks, how he reacts and feels and how he looks after Bella as he tries to be the boyfriend he promised her he would. There is quite a bit of controlling, obsessive behavior from Edward in Bella's future! There is also a lot of bad language from Edward in this chapter so be warned and it also includes a section on the aftermath at the hospital - but nothing too explicit.

…

Chapter 12 – Finding Bella (Edward's POV)

I rode my last wave into La Push beach and jumped from the board. The weather was changing quickly and the air temperature was dropping; I could feel the cold seeping into my muscles below the black full-body wetsuit I wore. Raising an arm, I waved in Jasper and Emmett and then jogged up the beach to Emmett's jeep where I propped up the board and began carefully stripping off the suit until I was garbed only in brief tight swim-trunks. Some guys liked to wear their suit sans swimwear but I wasn't one of them; I couldn't bear the rash I got around my groin.

Emmett kept buckets in the back of his jeep for rinsing the wet suits, so I grabbed one and jogged over to the mens toilet block to fill it with fresh water from the tap and then stuffed my wetsuit inside of it to rinse off the saltwater and sand. I wanted to go home to Bella. I missed her even though we'd only been apart for three hours. Jasper and Emmett said they wanted to go surfing today at breakfast and they talked me in to going with them. I was a moody prick this morning because of the anniversary coming up on Sunday and they all knew it, and were trying to distract me. It worked for a few hours but now I wanted to find Bella.

Grabbing a towel, I jogged over to the outdoor shower to rinse off the salt water as well as the sand that somehow always managed to find it's way beneath the neoprene suit. The fresh water was freezing and I stayed underneath the spray only long enough to feel clean again. Jasper and Emmett came running up from the beach as I was toweling off and I yelled at them to hurry up so we could go already. Emmett blew me the finger and Jasper just rolled his eyes and grinned as they headed to the showers.

Jasper was exactly the same as me when he first started dating Alice, spending every waking moment with her that he could get and even a few sleeping moments as well he didn't know I knew about. Emmett was a like a lovesick cow when he first started dating Rosalie but he seems to have forgotten what it was like to be caught in the fresh bloom of love. I might just have to have a little chat with Rosalie. I sniggered imagining Emmett in the dog house. How my tune had changed in less than two weeks since that day I'd told them all that I don't believe in true love.

By the time they were jogging back from the shower, I'd already hung up my rinsed wetsuit in the back of the jeep and strapped all three boards to the roof rack. A gust of cold wind came rolling up the beach reminding me that the weather had changed for the worse and it looked like it was going to pour with rain any minute now. I shoved my hands into the light-weight jacket I was wearing wishing I'd brought a warmer one, when my phone rang. It was Mom.

"Hey, Mom,"

"Hello, Edward," she replied, and she sounded a little harried, putting me on instant alert. "Edward, have you seen Bella this morning?" she asked me.

I stiffened, immediately wondering what was wrong. "Not since before we left for the beach. What's _wrong_, Mom?"

"Probably nothing, Edward, but Bella went into town this morning and she hasn't come back yet."

"How did she get into town?" I demanded curtly, waving insistently at Jasper and Emmett to hurry up.

"She took the bus, her note said, and she indicated she'd be home by lunchtime."

I looked at my waterproof watch. It was a quarter to one. That still qualifies as lunchtime, right?

"Have you called her cell phone?" I asked my mom as panic began to rise in my chest. My free hand found its way into my damp hair, tugging at large clumps of it until pain registered and I relaxed my grip a little bit.

"Yes, but a recorded message says it's out of service," she relayed to me worriedly. WHAT! That piece of shit phone of hers!

"Alright, Mom. Jasper, Emmett and I will drive into town and see if we can find her. Did her note say what she was planning on doing in town?" For fucks sake! Why couldn't she wait for me to fucking drive her if she wanted to go into town? I didn't like not knowing where she was or who she was with! Miss Swan was in for a lecture and a set of ground rules when I saw her even if she punched me in the nose again!

"She said something about a jeweler and …" her voice trailed off.

"And WHAT, Mom?" I almost yelled down the phone.

"A photographic supply shop," she told me. I couldn't understand why she was hesitant to tell me that but I'd be getting to the bottom of that as well!

"Anywhere else you can think of, Mom?" I asked as Jasper and Emmett grabbed the buckets to rinse their wet suits. I motioned for them to get dressed and forget rinsing their suits. That should tell you how worried I was because no serious surfer _ever_ leaves their wetsuit to stew in saltwater, sand and urine.

"No!" she told me, her tone more harried than it was before. "Oh, Edward, wait! Maybe the aquatic center. She told me last night when we were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, that her physical therapist wants her to take up swimming."

She hadn't told _me_ that. "Right. Okay, Mom. I'll ring you when I've got her," I told her, hanging up before she could say anything else. I was already dialing Bella's cell phone when the others indicated they were ready to go by getting into the car. I climbed into the front passenger seat beside Emmett while Jasper sat in the back and leaned forward between our two seats. I got the same recorded message that Mom did, 'The cell phone you are calling is out of service.'

"What's up, Bro?" asked Emmett in a serious voice. He knew from my demeanor that this wasn't one of those times to fuck around.

"Bella's missing!" I told them, fisting my hair.

"Missing?" repeated Jasper calmly. "What do you mean by, 'missing'?"

"JUST WHAT I FUCKING SAID!" I yelled. What the fuck! "MISSING! Meaning, 'not here'; 'can't be found'; 'not where she's supposed to be'; 'not at home where I know where she _fucking _is!'" I screamed at him. I was panicking; I knew it but I couldn't help it.

"Alright. Calm down, Bro," said Jasper resting his hand on my shoulder. "Who was that on the phone?" he asked.

"Mom."

"What did she say?" asked Emmett.

I relayed to them what Mom had told me and they both looked a little worried. The aquatic center was close to a section of Forks with a lot of abandoned buildings, though the center itself was on a well maintained street.

Emmett's jaw tightened and he accelerated down the La Push Beach road toward the highway going well over the posted speed limit. The jeep could handle it being an off-road vehicle because the road wasn't the smoothest in places. The drive from La Push to Forks would take eighteen minutes if Mom was driving and about twelve minutes with Emmett behind the wheel. This was one time, I hoped the highway patrol were taking a piss break.

"Let's trying the area around the pool first," suggested Emmett as he made a hard turn onto the highway cutting off a fully loaded logging truck.

_'Fuck me!' _I gasped, snatching hold of the grab bar on the ceiling near the door. I watched my life flash before my eyes and every image contained Bella because my life only began two weeks ago when I met her.

"She probably went there last if she was shopping because it's close to a bus stop on the way out of town," Emmett said, almost distractedly.

"What do you know about the Forks bus service," I asked him suspiciously. We all had driver licenses and cars of our own since we were sixteen, and before that, Mom and Dad drove us everywhere we wanted to go.

He looked startled as though he didn't realize he'd expressed his thoughts out loud. "Oh, um ..."

"Spill it," said Jasper, trying to keep me distracted by picking on Emmett. I appreciated it for what it was and fist bumped him in thanks.

"Oh, alright. If you must know!" he griped, playing along. "I was grounded about a year ago for getting a speeding ticket and I lost my driving rights for a month, so, I had to take the bus a lot," he explained with a shrug of one massive shoulder.

"How come we don't know about this?" I asked. Our ridiculous prattle was helping to distract me but I was getting increasingly nervous as I noted the passing time. It was nearly one o'clock; ten minutes had passed since I'd hung up the phone on Mom and nearly an hour since Bella should have come home.

"I asked Mom and Dad to keep it to themselves," Emmett said, interrupting my thoughts, "You were all involved with that skank, Lauren Mallory, Edward, dippin' your wick every chance you got, and Jasper and Alice were all lovey dovey and didn't notice anything that wasn't directly in front of them. Rosalie knew, but Mom and Dad banned her from driving me anywhere except to and from school and in emergencies," Emmett confessed.

"What about us? We drove you around sometimes," Jasper said, scratching his head trying to figure out how he didn't notice Emmett not driving for an entire month.

"That was okay. But I couldn't _ask_ you to drive me anywhere; it was only allowed if you offered. That was the compromise I had to agree to, to get Mom and Dad not to tell you about my punishment."

"Frankly, Emmett, I don't know why you bothered keeping it a secret. It's not like we all haven't been punished before," I said, as we entered the outskirts of Forks coming up on five past one. Time was passing fast! I dialed Bella's cell phone again but there was still no answer other than the tinny sounding recording. Fuck!

"Yeah, well, ahem … the reason for keeping it secret wasn't so much that I _was_ speeding, but _why_ I was speeding," he said, mortification evident in his voice.

"What!" I barked.

"I, um, took a Viagra, you know … to keep it, um, up longer and when it wouldn't go down even after … you know with, um, Rosalie a few times ..."

"Yeesss?" asked Jasper curiously, drawing out the sound.

"Well, I panicked and I was rushing into town to get Dad to, ahem, fix it!" he said with embarrassment, and he flushed red like a tomato.

"Why'd you take one of them for?" asked Jasper in disbelief when he stopped chortling. I tuned out most of Emmett's response; I thought it was more important to ask _where _he got it from, but that was a conversation for another time. I had an idea about the source but I pushed it aside to concentrate on finding Bella.

I was only half listening to their prattle now, because I was too busy looking around town as we drove to the the Forks pool, frantically searching for a slender girl with long brown hair walking along in the rain. The street lights had come on automatically when it got so dark because of the storm clouds and I hoped Bella was warm enough.

_'Shit! I don't even know what she's wearing so I can look out for a particular piece of clothing. Shit!'_

"Pull up in front," I interrupted Jasper and Emmett, pointing to the aquatic center. "I'll be back in a minute," I told them, jumping from the jeep before it had fully stopped. I sprinted inside to the front desk but the clerk was on the phone. _'Shit!'_

I smacked the counter repeatedly with my hand, trying to get his attention but he ignored me and kept talking into the phone. Then the fucker turned his back on me!

"Hey! Hey, Asshole! Yeah, you, you dumb Fuck!" I confirmed when he turned around to glare at me. "This is an emergency. You hang up that fucking phone and get over here, right now, or I'm climbing over this counter and coming to you," I threatened him and I wasn't kidding. I was more than prepared to vault over the counter and beat the fuck out of him if it got me the answers I needed.

The pimply faced kid swallowed and hurriedly ended his call, almost running over to the counter and skidding to a stop about five feet from where I stood on the opposite side. Gutless wonder!

"Have you seen a slender girl; about sixteen with long dark brown hair; beautiful face," I asked him. "I think she may have come in here sometime around noon to inquire about swimming classes or water exercises."

"Lot's of pretty brunettes come in here, Man. Doesn't mean I remember 'em all," he told me disinterestedly.

"Well fucking try, _Man_," I snarled, "because _this_ girl is missing and she's _my_ girlfriend and I'm just a tiny bit worried and pissed off right now, _Man_, if you get my drift," I hissed at him. Fucking moron!

"Um, I wasn't on at noon, so I d...don't know if she was in here or n...not," he stammered out.

"Well, is there anyone fucking here, that might have seen her?" I screamed at him.

"Um, my boss, I'll check," he said scurrying off through a door at the back of the reception area. He came back lickety-split with his boss in tow; a paunchy middle-aged man with a bad comb-over and a florid complexion.

I asked him the same question I had the kid, but I kept my tone more respectful and nearly bit my tongue off doing it.

"Yes, I do remember her. She came in here just after 12.30 asking about water aerobics and water therapy classes."

"Yes! Good! That sound's like her," I said, relieved. At least we were looking in the general area where we know for certain she was last seen. "What time did she leave and do you know where she was going?" I demanded.

"Ah, she left about a quarter to one I think; I showed her the pool and the ladies changing room and I got her a brochure with the class details, fees and opening times," he told me, raving on about the useless details.

"Did you happen to notice which direction she walked in?" I asked him, through tightly clenched teeth. My jaw ached from my teeth grinding against each other and the metallic taste of dental fillings polluted my mouth.

"No. But she asked me where the nearest bus stop was. I gave her directions and she left."

"_Which way_?" I gritted out, my tone impatient.

"Out the door and turn left, walk about three hundred yards and make a right turn, then about another one hundred and fifty yards down on the left. It's in front of the Thriftway," he said but I was gone before he finished his sentence, letting the glass door slam shut behind me.

I scrambled into the jeep which Emmett had kept running. "She was here," I panted. "The manager gave her directions to a bus stop near the Thriftway market at around a quarter to one, maybe a little after," I told them. Emmett was already driving.

We drove the quarter mile distance to the supermarket pulling up out front of the store in the car park. I could see the bus stop with its seat for passengers to wait on but there was no sign of her.

"Wait here," I ordered, getting out.

I sprinted inside the market to check if she was inside and yelled, "FUCK!" because there were too many aisles to check in the few moments I had to spare. I was drawing the attention of the employees and the customers – good; this could work for me.

"Has anyone seen Bella Swan?" I barked. They all stared at me, oblivious or just dumb. "FUUUCK!" I yelled again fisting my hair.

"Attention Thriftway Shoppers," announced the service desk manager in a tinny voice. He was on the PA system. Fucking Ace! I sprinted over to him, grabbed the mike from his hand while he was mid speech and pressed the talk button. He was too stunned to stop me, not that he could have.

"**ATTENTION, BELLA SWAN**, IF YOU ARE IN THIS MARKET, YOU ARE **ORDERED** TO COME TO THE FRONT COUNTER – **IMMEDIATELY!**" I screamed into the PA system. My tinny voice reverberated loudly around the store, but there was no sign of a slender brunette Bella hurrying along the aisles obeying my edict. She wasn't here! FUUUCK! I threw the mike at the service manager almost hitting him in the head and sprinted out the doors.

There was a newspaper stand in front of the store so I ran over, interrupting a customer paying for a magazine. "I'm sorry, Man, but this is an emergency," I said, pushing him out of the way. The guy running the stand said he hadn't seen her and he'd been there all day. I thanked him; apologized to the customer again and ran back to the jeep, leaning in the open window in the rain.

"She wasn't here," I told them hoarsely, clenching my hands over the door frame. If she wasn't here, that means she was lost somewhere or someone had her. I didn't want to think about what the latter option might mean.

Jasper, the calm voice of reason spoke up. "Okay, Gents. What do we know?" he asked rationally, and then continued when neither Emmett nor I responded. "It's a quarter after one now and Bella was last seen about thirty minutes ago at the pool. We know she was given directions to this bus stop and presumably she started walking in this direction."

I nodded dumbly.

"How long will it take Bella to walk 450 yards, Edward?" Jasper asked me, as I was the only one who had walked any significant distance with her before.

"Not long on a flat surface. Maybe a few minutes longer than a person without a leg injury," I told him.

"Okay, so taking into account maneuvering around pedestrians and waiting for traffic to slow or pass so she could cross the road, maybe five to ten minutes to walk here. What time was the bus due to leave this stop?"

"What fucking difference does it make?" I yelled. I wanted to get going and look for her.

"Every difference, Edward. We're trying to pinpoint where on a 450 yard walk, she might have gotten lost or ..." he paused, "snatched," he murmured quietly.

My heart palpitated. How could somebody get lost walking 450 yards in broad daylight on a well marked street?

"Ten past one," said Emmett.

"What?"

"The bus. It leaves the Thriftway on weekdays at ten past one and gets to the stop near our driveway at half past the hour.

"So she could be on the bus," I said hopefully, "and we've simply missed her."

"Yeah," said Jasper, nodding his head, "but the paper guy said he hasn't seen her and she wasn't in the market. Call, Esme," ordered Jasper. She picked up on the second ring.

"Mom, it's me, Edward. Has Bella come home yet?"

"No! Edward, I'm getting so worried," she whispered.

"I know, Mom, so am I," I whispered back. "Mom, the bus left the Thriftway a few minutes ago but we arrived after it left. Can you drive down to the stop near our driveway and see if she gets off the bus?"

"Yes. Are you going to keeping looking for her in town?"

"Yes. We've pinpointed her last whereabouts to somewhere between the Forks pool and the Thriftway between 12.45 and 1.10," I told her, "but no one's seen her since she left the pool."

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to call the police and your father, okay?"

My hand found its way into my hair again, tugging at the strands. At this rate, I was gonna be bald by dinner time. "Alright. Tell the cops the area we're searching in and not to bother with the pool or the market. She's somewhere between those two places."

"Okay, keep in touch with me, Edward," she ordered and hung up.

"Let's go," I said, starting to climb into the front passenger seat of the jeep, then changed my mind and opened the rear passenger door instead. "Jasper, get in the front," I ordered. I wanted to be in the back in case we found her so I could drag her into the car if I needed to. "We should try out-of-the-way places first. She may just have taken a wrong turn and gotten lost."

"Good idea," agreed Emmett wheeling away from the kerb and making a U-turn to head through the car park, back the way we'd come.

We were driving toward the aquatic center, when Jasper noticed an alleyway about fifty yards on _our_ left before Bella _should _have made a right turn. He pointed it out and Emmett roared down the alleyway that was only wide enough for one vehicle, but we didn't see anyone. The rain was getting heavier and it was getting increasingly darker and colder as time went by and we didn't find her. I was becoming more worried with every passing minute driving up and down; left and right through the maze of alleyways in the mostly abandoned industrial district.

"Turn your headlights on high," I told Emmett and he complied. "Try that way," I said, pointing to an alleyway on the right we hadn't investigated yet. I saw something from my peripheral vision as we passed a narrow lane; a flash of long dark hair under a security light and two guys!

"Emmett, STOP! Down here, quick! I think we've found her … and she's not alone," I snarled.

Emmett reversed sharply and pointed the jeep down the lane spotlighting a scene with the high-beam headlights that I never wanted to see again. Bella, my beautiful Bella was kneeling on the filthy, hard ground and some asshole had hold of her hair pulling her head back while the other one crouched in front of her holding her hands so she couldn't move or defend herself. She looked terrified and she was soaking wet, clothed only in a thin sundress.

"FUCKING HELL!" roared Emmett, verbalizing what I was thinking and feeling as the jeep burst into the car park and fishtailed in a semi-circle, coming to a screeching halt about six feet from the startled men and an ecstatically relieved Bella.

The three of us dove from the jeep before the motor had stop whirring. Jasper and Emmett gave chase to the two assholes who'd bolted up the lane; the blond guy was zipping up his pants as he ran. I was going to skin that fucker alive if he touched my Bella and I might still, even if hadn't, just for trying to.

I ran over to Bella, but I felt like I was running in slow motion, sluggish and uncoordinated no matter how much my brain ordered my legs to pump faster; like I was running through quicksand. Although it was only seconds – even if it felt like minutes – I imprinted on my memory, every single detail my eyes could absorb.

She was scrambling around with her hands looking for something to hold onto so she could pull herself up off the ground. A nasty bruise was forming over her right cheekbone and her mouth was bloody and swollen – one or both of those fuckers had hit her! I reached her just as she managed to grab hold of the fence behind her and began pulling herself upright. Both of her knees were skinned and bleeding and her thin sundress was torn at the neck and clinging to every inch of her body, delineating her panties and her bra. Her sweater, once white, was a sodden filthy rag on the ground beside her.

"BELLA! BELLA!" I yelled as I reached her, throwing my arms around her and pulling her close to me. She held her arms out to the side as though I was a stranger who'd run up to her on the street and accosted her. _'Shit!'_ That's exactly what _had_ happened to her! She cringed away from me and my heart stopped in my chest for a few seconds.

"Bella? Bella, it's me, Edward," I said in a gentle voice so I wouldn't frighten her again. I let go of her, as much as I loathed to do it, and pulled my jacket off, placing it around her shoulders in a lame attempt to keep her warm. She was too wet for that and so was the jacket but at least the inside of the jacket was dry and held some of my body heat.

"_Baby_, it's Edward. _Baby, _I wont hurt you; let me help you," I crooned to her. She looked to be in shock because her eyes were staring straight through me; great black pools of nothing in her pale face. She was obviously traumatized by what had happened and I wanted to kill those two motherfuckers very slowly and very painfully.

I kept crooning to her softly as I reached out to button up the jacket. It was so large on her slender frame that I was able to button it up without her arms being in the sleeves. I slowly held my hand up where she could see it and brought it to her face so I could stroke my thumb gently over her bruised and bloody mouth. She flinched in pain but didn't cringe away from me – if anything, she leaned into the palm of my hand and I was elated that she seemed to recognize me.

"Oh, Oh, Ed...Edward," she cried out in sudden recognition. She burst into tears and leaned into me, resting her wet and clammy, bleeding face against my chest. I could feel her arms struggling to get free of the constricting jacket, so I unbuttoned the top few buttons and her arms appeared, snaking around my neck to hold on tightly. My arms encircled her body as I hugged her, rocking her from side to side in a soothing motion as I resumed the crooning nonsense that always seemed to calm her.

The sound of sirens coming closer alerted me that the police where likely on their way and I prayed my dad was with them. A police car pulled up in the alley across the entrance to the lane, it's blue and red lights flashing. Police Chief, Sam Uley got out of the car and came jogging down the lane towards us, his hand resting over the firearm strapped to his belt. My dad ran behind him, his medical bag clutched in his hand; he must have followed Sam here in his car.

"Edward," my dad said in his quiet and calm voice, but his eyes revealed his worry. He was assessing the situation and Bella's physical condition without even touching her. He was an amazing fucking doctor and I wanted to be just like him. Music was my passion, not my career!

"Dad!" I gasped, relieved to see him.

"Is she alright?" asked the Chief.

"No. But she will be," I told them.

"Let go of her, Son. I need to examine her."

"NO!" wailed Bella, clinging to me like a baby.

"Bella?" said Dad to her softly. "Bella, we need to get you into some dry clothes and I need to examine you," he told her.

"Take me home, Edward, please?" she cried beseechingly. "Please? I don't want to go to the hospital. I just want to go home. Please, Edward? Please?"

I looked at my dad for permission but he shook his head.

"Bella, you need to be examined and have your injuries treated," I said, trying to reason with her.

"No," she sobbed. "Carlisle can do that at home. Please? I just want to have a bath and go to sleep," she told me. "They … didn't rape me," she whispered. "You arrived here in time to stop them," she sniffled.

I exhaled a sigh of relief that they hadn't gotten that far but I was beyond enraged that they'd even tried and she still needed her other injuries treated even if a rape exam wasn't on the agenda.

I looked at Dad and the Chief to see if they'd changed their minds. They hadn't and they shook their heads at me. The Chief tried to explain to Bella why she needed to go to the hospital and he slouched down so he wasn't standing over her, to speak calmly to her.

"Bella, we need to collect evidence from you ..." he explained, trailing off.

"Can't we do that tomorrow?" I hissed. Fuck! They want to take her statement now!

"It's not that type of evidence," said the Chief, answering my unspoken question, or maybe I'd said it out loud. "We need the hospital to collect evidence from her body for DNA testing and forensic analysis," he clarified quietly, "to make a case against the men who did this to her."

Bella sniffled and I stroked her hair and rocked her, rubbing her back and arms through the cloth of my jacket. I looked down at it and stiffened. Even I'd watched enough re-runs of CSI to know about evidence collection and contamination of a crime scene. Had I contaminated the crime scene by wrapping her in my jacket; by touching her. Was her fragile body a crime scene now? I wanted to cry and yell and scream!

"Chief?" I called out hoarsely.

"Yes?"

"My jacket …?"

"It's okay, Edward. I understand. In crimes such as this, sometimes there can be contamination of the evidence during the rescue. We'll just need a sample of your DNA to rule you out, okay?"

I nodded and leaned down to Bella to whisper to her that we were going to the hospital now and I was going to pick her up.

"Dad, can I take her home after you've done whatever it is you need to do at the hospital?" Bella was nestled in my arms against my chest, her face buried against my neck. Her skin was icy cold and clammy.

Dad was hesitant, but then he nodded. "The ambulance is on it's way, Edward. Bring her up to the police cruiser; it should be here any moment," he said, and we all heard the sirens getting closer. I walked up the lane with the one woman, other than my mother, that I treasured more than any other in the world, being careful not to jar her in any way. She'd stopped weeping and seemed relieved to be leaving the car park and its terrible memories behind.

Dad quickly took her blood pressure and checked her pulse as the ambulance crawled up the alleyway. Jasper and Emmett were talking to a couple of deputies and the blond fucker who was zipping up his pants as he ran away, was sitting in the back of a police cruiser, his hands cuffed and attached to the cage separating the front and rear seats. He smirked at me, then blew me a kiss.

I growled at him. Not a semblance of a growl, but a real animalistic, honest-to-goodness growl like a lion protecting its pride. They all looked at me, blatantly startled by the sound I'd made – Dad, the Chief, Emmett and Jasper – even the deputies, but I didn't give a fucking shit! I'd do more than growl at the fucker if I ever got my hands on him!

"Where's the other one?" I snarled.

"He got away," said Jasper.

"Don't worry," said the Chief. "We'll have every officer on the Olympic Peninsula looking for him within the hour. He won't get far," he promised.

…

Dad let me ride in the ambulance with Bella while he followed in his car and Emmett and Jasper went to the station to give their statements about what happened. Bella and I had to give ours tomorrow, but the Chief said he'd come over to the house around lunchtime.

When we got to the hospital, Dad directed us into a private examination room and a nurse came in with a rape evidence collection kit. Bella got real nervous when she saw the kit and it was obvious she thought they were going to make her submit to an intimate exam. I clenched my fists, horrified that Bella might have to submit to such a test for such a reason.

"It's okay, Honey, I'm not here to do an internal exam, but the kit contains the items I need to collect other evidence from you. None of it is invasive and it won't hurt, I promise," she said softly, smiling at Bella.

"O...okay," whispered Bella. I reached out and squeezed her left hand in gentle support and offered to stay with her during the exam if she wanted me to. I didn't want to make an assumption that she'd be comfortable with me in the room after what had happened, even though I never wanted to let her out of my sight again.

"Stay, please," she pleaded. I nodded and the nurse said it was okay, so I stood by the bed and watched everything she did with an attention that bordered on morbid fascination.

The nurse used special swabs to collect fluid and blood from Bella's knees, hands, lips, mouth and cheek. She also scraped under Bella's finger nails and collected a blood sample then used a comb to collect evidence from Bella's hair, and fibers from her clothes. I also had to give an evidence sample via a swab of my mouth to dismiss any of my DNA that might turn up in the forensic results.

Bella had to surrender all of her clothing including her underwear and I stepped outside of the room while the nurse helped her to undress. My dad was waiting outside the door for the nurse to finish so he could go in and examine Bella. I leaned against the wall and blew out a weary breath.

"Are you okay, Son?" asked Dad with concern.

"Yes. No," I said more honestly. "What happens now, Dad?" I asked, but I wasn't sure what I was asking. Dad chose to interpret my question literally, but I think he knew I was asking something more.

"I treat Bella's physical injuries and we take her home," he told me matter-of-factly. "We be supportive of her feelings and make allowances for how she may react in the next few hours, days and weeks."

"Then what?" I whispered.

"I know what I'm about to say will sound trite and unfeeling, but … she tries to move on with her life and not let this single event haunt her for the rest of her days … and we get her the help she'll need to do that."

I gulped and nodded. I might need to go with her – when she gets the help, I mean, because I don't know if I can forget what I saw in that car park on my own.

"An assault always has more than one victim," Dad told me when I didn't say anything. "We … tend to forget that violent crime also affects the people who are closest to the person who was the target, but we're all victims in this, Edward; you more so than any of us, because Bella is your girlfriend. This happened to both of you," he said quietly as the door to the exam room opened and the nurse came out carrying evidence bags on a tray. She nodded to Dad and he went in and I tried to follow.

"I need you to stay outside for just awhile longer, Edward," he said with a gentle but firm staying hand on my chest.

I wanted to object and I started to, but Dad's stoic expression was unrelenting. He had a job to do and I wasn't needed or required. My shoulders slumped dejectedly, but I nodded my assent and my understanding.

"I'll call you as soon as you can come in, okay?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"While you're waiting, why don't you go to the cafeteria and get Bella a cup of hot sweet tea. Get one for yourself as well; and then stop by the nurses station for a set of scrubs so Bella has something to wear home," Dad suggested but it was really a command. "I'll need about half an hour," he told me then he closed the door to Bella's room, shutting me out.

My hands came up to my head and fisted my hair in frustration not only because I couldn't be with Bella, but because I was outwardly calm but also inwardly enraged. Each emotion was fighting for supremacy, and right now the rage felt like it was winning. I was afraid of falling from the precipice again like I did six years ago when Robert died. I called the one person who might understand.

"Hello?"

"Emmett. Talk to me, Brother," I begged.

"What's wrong, Edward?" he asked with concern. "Are you still at the hospital?"

"Yes. Emmett? Emmett, I can't … I can't seem to get a handle on my emotions right now," I whispered to him. "I feel … adrift, like I don't know where I've been or where I'm going," I said into the silence on the phone. "I feel just like I did when Rob died," I howled, no longer able to suppress my fear and guilt and relief.

"Edward! Don't you do this, Bro! What happened to Bella is _not_ your fault. You can't blame yourself for something you had no control over," Emmett growled insistently over the phone.

"But I promised her I would look after her, that I'd be a good boyfriend to her," I sobbed, scrubbing at the tears filling my eyes. "And less than a week after I made that promise to her, she almost gets raped!"

"You cannot protect everyone all of the time, Edward! People are responsible for their own actions and decisions and everything we do or say has consequences, both good and bad," said Emmett forcefully, "and even the little, inconsequential things we decide can change the course of someone's fate." I was surprised at how enlightened he actually sounded and it distracted me for a few moments before he continued.

"Bella _chose_ to take the bus into town rather than waiting for someone to drive her. Those thugs _chose_ to follow her and assault her. Mom _chose_ to call you and tell you that Bella hadn't come home and we _chose _to search for her. Every one of those decisions made by four different groups of people had a consequence; some of them good and some bad, but the outcome would have surely been different if any one of those decisions was changed or never made in the first place. Nothing is wholly controllable, Edward. Sometimes we can lessen the impact like we did today, but when all is said and done, some things are simply inevitable," he sighed tiredly.

I was silent, considering what he said.

"Edward, it wasn't your fault that the bolts were defective and it wasn't your fault there were huge storms in Chicago that week. It wasn't your fault that Rob was dancing around and fell against the railing and it wasn't your fault that he fell off the roof and died … just like it's not your fault that Bella took the bus into town because you weren't home and it's not your fault you weren't there to prevent her from getting lost and being attacked. You can't be responsible for everyone and everything all of the time, Edward. It doesn't work like that," he said.

I swallowed. I know rationally that what he was saying was correct, but I didn't want to let myself believe it. "But ..."

"No buts!" Emmett yelled down the phone, cutting me off. "Think about all of the decisions you've made that had a positive consequence," he said, "rather than dwelling on the things that weren't your decisions to make and you couldn't and can't ever control. Do it for yourself, Bro, and do it for Bella and Mom and Dad and the rest of us … before you make yourself insane with guilt and self pity. We can't do this again, Edward," he said, but it was a plea.

"I know," I whispered.

"How's Bella?" Emmett asked me after a moment.

"She's shaken, but she'll be okay. They didn't, um …"

"That's good Bro, real good. Um, Rosalie said to tell you she's available, to talk to Bella if she wants to get stuff off her chest, you know," Emmett told me.

"Yeah. Tell Rosalie thanks."

"When do you think you'll be home?"

"About an hour I think, maybe a bit longer. Dad's in there with her now."

"Okay, well I'll see you when you get home, Edward, and remember what I said, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Emmett," I said and we disconnected.

…

I was coming back from the cafeteria with two steaming takeaway cups of sweet milky tea thinking over my conversation with Emmett, when I saw the Chief coming out of Bella's room followed by my Dad. They spoke quietly outside her closed door for a few moments then the Chief strode down the hallway toward me. He nodded as he passed me and I turned to follow him with narrowed eyes of concern. Why was the Chief in Bella's room? He said that he'd see us tomorrow! I turned back to look at my dad with a puzzled expression and he waved me over to the nurse's station and met me there.

"What's going on?" I demanded, putting the paper tea cups on the counter.

"Bella's fine, Edward, but she told me some things during the exam that the Chief needed to know about."

"WHAT THINGS?" I demanded shrilly, and then lowered my voice when people stared with keen interest, eager for fresh juicy gossip. Nosy assholes!

"Keep your voice down, Edward. I know you're concerned about Bella, but you have to let the police do their job, okay?"

"Yes," I gritted out. "What did Bella tell you?" I asked worriedly.

"I can't discuss that with you, Edward, you know that," replied my dad flatly. Fucking bullshit!

My jaw was clenching again making my teeth hurt and I could feel a muscle begin to tick beside my mouth. I glared at my father with sudden dislike because he was acting the officious doctor and not my dad.

"If Bella tells you, Edward, that's different, but I can't breach the doctor-patient confidentiality agreement," he told me firmly, "not again, not even for you," he whispered.

I nodded slowly in understanding even if I didn't like it. "Can we take her home yet?"

"In about thirty minutes. I want her leg and hand X-Rayed before we leave; she's moving her limbs without excessive pain but I want to be thorough."

I nodded again. I preferred that as well. I wanted assurances that her physical injuries weren't more serious than they first appeared.

"Why don't you take that tea into Bella and I'll get the scrubs so she can change out of the hospital gown for the drive home," Dad suggested. I strode down the hall to her room without any further encouragement; I wanted to see for myself that she was okay.

Bella was reclining on the bed when I pushed the door open with my shoulder, holding the two cups of tea. She looked pale and uncomfortable, but otherwise she didn't appear outwardly distressed. I knew from experience, that what was happening on the inside, in the brain was often more important because emotional and psychological damage was silent and invisible.

"Hi," she whispered to me hoarsely, with a wan smile of greeting.

"Hi," I replied softly returning her smile with one of reassurance. "I brought you some hot tea," I told her needlessly.

"Thanks," she said, reaching for the tea and sipping from it slowly. She winced when the hot liquid irritated the weeping cut on her lip. Dad had daubed it with some type of antiseptic cream to protect it and prevent infection but it would be sore until it formed a nice thick scab.

"You can go home soon, Dad said, as soon as you've been X-Rayed."

"I know, he told me."

"Bella …?" I didn't know what to say or how to ask her what I wanted to ask her.

"I'm okay, Edward. Thank you for finding me. I'd just about given up all hope," she whispered to me with a violent shudder.

I sat down on the side of the bed and gently took hold of her uninjured hand in mine, stroking over the back of it with my thumb.

"How did you end up in that alleyway, Bella?" I asked her quietly.

She sighed. "It was my own fault, Edward. I wasn't paying attention and I must have made a wrong turn. I was lost before I realized that I wasn't where I was supposed to be anymore."

"Did those guys follow you?"

"Not from behind. I was making my way toward the street I could see ahead of me, when they came in from the other end and walked toward me. I'd seen them on the bus into town and they must have recognized me," she told me. "The blond one stared at me on the bus," she whispered, "and he blew me a kiss," she said. "I ignored them, but …" she trailed off.

I was fucking livid. I didn't believe for a minute, those fuckers hadn't followed her. They just came at her from an offensive position rather than a defensive one, cutting off her nearest means of escape which was the street she was walking toward. Once she was on the street, their chance to strike would have been lost. I'd seen the same tactic used in football. Use the most efficient means at your disposal to stop your enemy or in this case, your victim from reaching safety.

An orderly came in with a wheelchair to take Bella down to X-Ray and I helped her off the bed and into the chair. I wanted to take control of it but the burly orderly wouldn't let me even after I'd growled under my breath and bared my teeth at him. He just reciprocated and pried my hands from the handles. He was built like a brick shit-house and was just as strong as one.

I scowled but walked beside the chair as we took the elevator down one floor to the X-Ray department, and the fucking orderly made me wait outside. Prick! I was left to my own devices for ten minutes, so I paced up and down the corridor waiting for her to get done. I tried to sit but it was no use; I was too full of nervous energy and rage which had no immediate outlet.

The door to the X-Ray room opened just as I was turning on my fiftieth lap of the corridor and I rushed toward Bella and the orderly.

"Okay?" I asked her.

"Yeah, all good," she told me, as the orderly wheeled her toward the elevator.

When we got back to her room, Dad was there and the orderly handed him Bella's X-Ray films and left. He clipped them to the light-board on the wall and looked at them carefully for a few minutes before smiling at us and confirming that there were no new broken bones. All of us were relieved.

"Okay, Bella, you can get changed into the scrubs I borrowed for you and then we can go, okay? She nodded. "The chief sent one of the deputies over with your shoulder bag after they finger printed it and searched it for evidence so you can have it back now. It's on the chair beside the bed," he told her pointing to it.

Bella breathed a sigh of relief and Dad left the room. "Do you need any help?" I asked Bella. I wasn't trying to be a pervy prick, I assure you; I was genuinely concerned that she needed help dressing.

"No, I'm fine Edward. I'll tap on the door when you can come back in, okay?"

I nodded and left the room, pacing up and down the corridor like a caged animal just as I'd done downstairs outside of X-Ray.

…

Dad went out to bring his car around to the front entrance and Neanderthal man aka the orderly, wheeled Bella, dressed in the over-large baggy blue scrubs, to the front entrance to wait for Dad. As soon as he collected us, she'd be my responsibility again and the orderly could take a flying fuck for all I cared.

Bella was quiet on the drive home and she cuddled into my arms without me even asking her if I could hold her. I rested my chin on the top of her head and stroked her hair. She stiffened briefly which made me question what was wrong and then she forced herself to relax. I heard her sighing and I moved my hand from her hair to wrap it around her body, holding her against me protectively.

When we arrived home, it was nearly 5 o'clock in the afternoon and Mom was waiting for us at the front door. I helped a sleepy Bella from the car and picked her up wrapping her arms and legs around my body so she clung to me like a monkey, and carried her into the house. Dad and Mom looked at each with speaking glances but I didn't stop to try and interpret them, powering up the stairs to the third floor to the safety and comfort of my bedroom.

I sat on my bed with Bella in my lap and breathed a huge sigh of relief because I had her home where I could keep her safe. I stroked my hands up and down her back for a few minutes until she began to stir.

"Edward?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Yes, Baby?" I crooned.

"Can I have a bath, please?" she asked me pensively, as though she thought I might say no.

"Yes, Baby," I told her – anything she wanted. I stood up so I could sit her on the edge of the bed and strode into my bathroom to start the water running into the tub. It never even crossed my mind that she'd go to her own room – not tonight! I added some Epsom salts to the water to help relax her muscles and grabbed two clean towels and a washcloth from the tall cabinet in the corner, laying them on a chair by the tub.

I was grabbing the shampoo and conditioner from the shower stall so she could wash her hair, when it abruptly occurred to me that she might not appreciate using my 'Aveda for Men' products – her hair always smelled of flowers. Putting the bottles back, I smiled at her lovingly as she watched me curiously from her seat on my bed, as I powered through my room, across the hall and into her room, tossing her toiletries into a basket she had on the bathroom counter. I raided her panty drawer on the way back. Another time, I might have explored that particular drawer a bit more thoroughly but now wasn't the time.

"Let's get you into the tub, Baby," I said to her coming back into the room after dropping the basket of toiletries in the bathroom. I picked her up and carried her into the steamy room standing her by the tub, and then I stood around feeling useless, not knowing what else to do. Should I stay or go?

"I can take it from here, Edward," she told me softly, reaching up with her hand to stroke my face. "Thank you for looking after me," she whispered.

"I promised to look after you," I said, "but I didn't do a very good job of keeping you safe today," I croaked, wondering if she'd dump my ass for breaking my promise to her so soon.

"Yes, you did, Edward. You rescued me," she refuted softly. "You came looking for me and you brought the cavalry with you. I love you, Edward," she said, her voice raspy with emotion. She stretched up on her tippy-toes to kiss the corner of my mouth.

I gathered her body to me and hugged her, fighting back sobs of relief that she didn't blame me, and wonder because she loved me even after what happened to her today. "I love you too," I said, my voice cracking with emotion.

She pushed away from me gently. "I think the tub's full," she said dryly just as the water was about to lap over the edge.

"Shit!" I yelped and reached for the tap to shut off the water. "I'll have to let some of it out for you," I told her sheepishly, reaching into the deep tub to open the drain. I let out about six inches of water and then left briefly to bring her one of my T-Shirts because I forgot her pajamas when I was in her room and I didn't want to leave her alone again to go find them.

"I'll be in my room, Bella. Please call out to me if you need me," I pleaded with her.

"I will," she promised me, and I left her to relax and bathe, hitting play on the small stereo on my way out. The soothing sounds of the piano music she liked so much sounded from the speakers softly as I closed the bathroom door behind me.

…

Bella had been asleep in my bed for the last four hours and I'd spent exactly the same length of time sitting on my sofa watching over her and making a list of all the ways I could keep her safe. I had a list of 101 items – I counted them. Some of them would never work, simply because Bella wouldn't go along with them no matter how much I pleaded with her or demanded that she comply. My parents might be a stumbling block as well. I sighed and began crossing off items on the list until I'd reduced it to about ten or twelve that I thought she might go along with, and a few she wouldn't know about, and then I made a fresh list.

_Nbr 1. Give Bella my old iPhone with tracking App so I know where she is at all times._

_Nbr 2. Enroll in the same classes as Bella, so I can be with her at all times at school._

_Nbr 3. Make my siblings guard her when I can't be with her (Pay them if necessary!)._

_Nbr 4. Drive Bella everywhere she wants/needs to go._

_Nbr 5. Make my siblings drive her when I can't (Pay them if necessary!)_

_Nbr 6. Investigate all people who interact with Bella – friends, teachers, professionals __(Hire investigator immediately!) (Have the investigator investigated!)_

_Nbr 7. Teach Bella to drive._

_Nbr 8. Buy Bella a car with a tracking device so I know where she is at all times._

_Nbr 9. Get Bella self-defense lessons and go with her. Investigate the instructor!_

_Nbr 10. Convince Bella not to live in her house when her Emancipation is granted._

_Nbr 11. Find a way to sabotage her Emancipation! (Consider bribing the judge?)_

_Nbr 12. Buy Bella pepper spray, electronic whistle and a personal taser device. Teach her how to use them.  
><em>

_Nbr 13. Check with the FBI, possibility of tracking Bella with a satellite. (Is this OTT?) (Cost?)  
><em>

_Nbr 14. Marry Bella as soon as possible!_

_Nbr 15. Convince Bella that all these things are for her own good! _

_Nbr 16. Keep secret from Bella and parents items numbered 6, 11, 13 and 14._

I sighed and put the notepad in the drawer of the table by the sofa and pinched the bridge of my nose to relieve the pain of a tension headache forming behind my left eye. Bella hadn't moved in the bed from the moment she'd climbed into it after her bath. I'd heard the sloshing of the bathwater occasionally as she moved around and washed her hair while I paced up and down in front of the door for an hour so I'd be close by if she needed me.

She'd come out dressed in my T-shirt which reached nearly to her knees and hung off her shoulders, looking fresh and clean and very, very beautiful even with the darkening bruise on her cheek and her swollen lip. I'd led her by the hand to the bed and tucked her in after applying some antiseptic spray to her skinned knees and daubing her lip with a healing cream. She'd asked me to stay with her and I did, lying on the covers propped against the headboard with her head lying against my chest until she'd gone to sleep. It didn't take long – her body and her mind were worn out by the events of the afternoon.

I was desperate for a shower and I decided to chance leaving her alone for five minutes. While I was in my closet getting sleep pants and another T-shirt, I pulled my old iPhone from the drawer where I kept it and placed it on the charger so I could give it to her in the morning, _after_ I'd downloaded the tracking App and synced it with my current phone. I planned on confiscating her old phone. I'd crush it into dust if I had to, to ensure she used this one!

I showered hurriedly, leaving the door ajar so I would hear her if she called out and then dried myself off and dressed for bed. While brushing my teeth, I noticed all of her toiletries spread over the counter and they looked perfectly at home; as though they were where they were supposed to be, mixed in with my own things. She was messy with her stuff, spreading out from one end of the counter to the other, but I didn't mind as much as I thought I would that things were out of place, because Bella's place was with me.

I left a dimmer lamp on low in the sitting area in case she woke during the night and then climbed into bed, pulling her body close to me and surrounding her with my arms. She stirred and rolled over, cuddling closer – her body warm and soft. She laid her head on my chest and sighed my name, just once, before drifting back to sleep.

I slept.

…

A/N: Well what did you think? Did you like Edward's list? – obsessive much!

Review and let me know your thoughts.

Forks does have a public pool but it's been closed since 2006 and is currently under renovation. The walking distance between the pool and the Thriftway market is actually quite a bit longer than 450 yards but I changed it to suit my story - artistic license.

Photos for the chapter are on my blog as usual. The link is on my profile page.

Chapter 13 available this weekend but it might be a short one because I'm bushed.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer is the author and owner of the Twilight Saga. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

…

Beta'd by Marshmellow007

A/N: My Bella is a strong individual; she won't allow tragedy to hold her down and rule her life. Some of you may not agree with Bella's less than terrified reaction following the assault, but this is strong Bella, living her life the way she always has before and the way she'll continue to do so.

I also know I told some of you that this would be a short one and yet, it is the longest chapter yet at over 15,000 words. Enjoy!

…

Chapter 13 – Seventeen

_'No!' I whimpered. 'No! Let me go! Don't hurt me please! Don't touch me!'_

_I gasped and tried to run away but my body was trapped beneath something hard and heavy. I panicked and began to struggle to free myself but I couldn't escape the weight!_

_They were too strong, too big and they had me trapped! They had me on the ground, on my knees. I was cold and soaking wet but the rain didn't seem to bother them – it wasn't deterring them from playing out the sick game they'd started and I was their prize. They both reached for me this time; tired of taking turns I suppose._

_Blond Guy grabbed me by the hair again yanking my head back pulling his jeans zip down with his free hand. Oh GOD! Dreadlocks Guy held both of my hands in his massive grip and grinned evilly at me, his eyes glowing under the security light that had come on, as I struggled to free myself. _

_I was crying freely now, my tears indistinguishable from the rain that was streaming down my face. They could see the fear I held for them reflected in my eyes – I couldn't hide it anymore but I'd held out for as long as I could. I felt my bladder releasing again and this time I didn't try to stop it. What was the point – the rain would just wash away all evidence anyway. I tried to pull my hands free from Dreadlocks grip, but I wasn't strong enough._

_I saw Blond Guy pull his erect dick from his pants, thick whitish fluid was leaking from the tip and he stunk to high heaven. _

_FUCK! When was the last time he took a bath? _

_I gulped as he held his member in his free hand and waved it about in front of my face, grazing the tip over my lips. I locked my jaw and kept my mouth firmly shut. If he thought he was putting THAT in my mouth and I wasn't gonna bite it like I did his tongue, he had another thing coming! I might die in this fricking car park after they raped me but I wasn't gonna make it easy for them._

_'PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!' I screamed._

_Blond Guy let go of his dick and slapped me hard across the face in retaliation for screaming, and I suppose, so I would gasp and open my mouth again, like I did when he bit my lips and ravaged my mouth – I refused to call it a kiss! I gasped involuntarily, but I quickly clamped my mouth shut again before he could get in._

_Dreadlocks Guy let go of my hands as the impact of Blond Guys slap jolted my body violently to the side, and my knees scraped against the hard ground again. He used the opportunity to tear my sweater from my arms, ripping the fragile knit cloth as he did so. He threw it aside, and then grabbed my hands again which had reached, of their own accord, up into my hair to pry Blond Guys fingers from around the strands. I thought briefly if I had a pair of scissors, I'd cut the fucking strands off so he wouldn't have anything to hold on to._

_Dreadlocks Guy reached into the neckline of my dress and tore the sodden cotton fabric like it was tissue. He was reaching into my bra again trying to pull it away from my breasts but the rear clasp of the garment made it difficult. He growled in frustration and reached around behind my back to release the hook and eye closure allowing my breasts to swing free under the loosened bra. He grinned and bent his head to my partially exposed breast … and he bit me! I howled in agony. NO!_

"NO! EDWARD!" I screamed.

I came back to consciousness from the horrible nightmare that was a rerun of yesterday afternoon with an abruptness that was frightening because I was still trapped by a heavy weight. I felt the phantom pain in my breast that was more painful than the ache of the bruise and broken skin _he'd_ left.

"WHAT? WHAT IS IT?" I heard somebody yell, and then suddenly the weight that was trapping me was gone.

I gasped in relief and sat up in the bed, crossing my arms across my breasts, perspiring and breathing heavily, my mind confused. The room I was in was dimly lit and my eyes told me this wasn't my room. Whose room was it?

"Are you okay, Bella?" asked Edward from beside me and I startled, shrieking in surprise.

Why are we in bed together? _His_ bed together? Then I remembered and I felt safe again. Edward had rescued me and looked after me last night, drawing me a bath, finding me something to sleep in, and ministering to my scrapes and scratches before putting me to bed. Until the nightmare a few minutes ago, I'd been sleeping like a baby, warm and comfortable and completely surrounded by the safety of his arms.

"Yes, I'm fine," I sighed, wiping a few tears from my eyes and pushing my messy hair back from my face. "I just had a nightmare," I told him, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Bella, it's fine," he told me sleepily, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. "Nightmares are expected after what you went through."

He wanted to touch me, to comfort me but he was hesitant in case I reacted badly following the nightmare. He lowered his hands and leaned back against the headboard of the large bed instead, the sheets and blankets pooling around his waist. His hair was a messy nest of bronze curls sticking out all over his head, his face pink with the bloom of recent sleep. I'd never seen him look more beautiful to me, other than that moment yesterday afternoon when he'd found me and saved me from those thugs.

"What time is it?" I whispered to him.

"Hmm. It's nearly 7.30."

"I should get up."

"There's no need, Bella. You sleep as long as you need to," he coaxed. "You don't need to be downstairs until the Chief gets here at lunchtime … for our statements," he told me.

I shuddered. I didn't want to have to talk about this with strangers so soon, but I knew yesterday at the hospital when the Chief came by my room after Carlisle called him, that I would need to tell the police everything today. I also know that talking about what happened will be cathartic – if I learned nothing else from all of my therapy following the accident, it was that talking about things that were worrying or frightening (real or imagined), helped to put thoughts and events into perspective.

I sighed. "I know it, Edward, but I want to get up. There's something I need to do today and I don't want to lay here for hours dwelling on what happened, giving myself daymares."

"What do you need to do today, Bella? You're _not_ going out without me!" he said insistently, his voice rising with sudden stress. He leaned forward in the bed, his relaxed posture gone.

I turned to face him, crossing my legs Indian style. I pulled the hem of the T-shirt I was wearing carefully over my skinned knees so I didn't expose myself to his view. I blew out a breath and pushed my hair behind each ear.

"Edward?"

"What!" he responded sulkily.

"You're going to be difficult, aren't you?" I said to him rhetorically.

I really didn't expect an answer to a question I already knew the answer to. He also didn't surprise me when he bounded off the bed huffily and began pacing stridently up and down the room yanking at this hair. A range of emotions crossed his face beginning with irritation that quickly morphed into worry, then fury, adoration and understanding, before his face distorted again in a grimace of irritation and fury. He finally came to a halt at the foot of the bed and glared at me.

"I can't … you can't …" he mumbled, unable to articulate his feelings. He exhaled a heavy breath and stalked over to the side of the bed, sitting down on the edge, facing me.

"Bella. Bella … I almost went insane yesterday when I couldn't find you and nobody had seen you," he whispered to me. "And when I saw you in that deserted car park with those guys who were hurting you …"

His face reflected the agony he'd gone through yesterday afternoon and his green eyes darkened and smoldered with remembered fury.

"I need … I need to know that you're safe," he explained in a pleading whisper, "I need to know where you are," he told me honestly, his voice breaking.

I brought my hand up and stroked his jaw lovingly, my irritation dissolving. I understood his feelings, but I didn't want Edward's paranoia and his obsessive need for control to lull me into a false sense of security. What happened was horrible and I doubt I'll ever forget it, but I refused to allow the event to rule my life, or allow Edward to hide me away and wrap me in protective cotton wool.

"I know," I whispered to him; I really did understand. I leaned forward to kiss the side of his mouth. He returned my kiss carefully and gently, being mindful of my cut and swollen lips.

His emotions were so exposed at the moment, more so than they usually were because he was always hiding behind his tough Hydeward persona, except when he was with me. But, this Edward – Jekyllward, he was terrified that something would happen to me if he couldn't control my every waking and sleeping moment; if he didn't make things _perfectly_ safe and _perfectly_ secure at all times.

"Edward, I won't hide or cower away," I told him gently. "It's not in my nature. I didn't hide after the accident and I won't do it now. My life is changed for the worst because of _them_, but it changed for the best because of _you_," I explained. "I'm a survivor, Edward and I won't let fear rule how I live my life."

He stared at me solemnly, his eyes almost black in his face pale. He parted his lips slightly as if to refute what I'd said, and then he seemed to change his mind, reaching his arms around me to hug me instead. I returned his hug inhaling his familiar Edward scent, letting it neutralize the stench in my memories.

I didn't believe for one moment that Edward wouldn't employ certain measures that in his mind, would keep me safer, and I accepted the inevitable – I knew about his obsessive compulsive tendencies before I agreed to be his girlfriend – but I hoped that he wouldn't go overboard.

"I'm not going out anywhere today, Edward," I assured him softly, answering his earlier question. He shuddered in relief and relaxed his grip around my body slightly. "But I do have something I need to do, and I need to do it without you," I told him.

I could hear his teeth grinding and he tensed again.

"I'll be in the house the whole time, Edward. I need to go into town tomorrow (I remembered that I need to pick up Mom's jewelery) but you can take me there, okay? I won't take the bus," I tried to reassure him.

"You _won't_ be taking the bus again, _ever_," he ordered me. "I'll drive you wherever you need to go until you get your driver license and I can buy you a safe, reliable car!" he told me emphatically.

I cocked a brow. He was going to buy me a car?

"I have a car, Edward," I told him. I had my Mom's car waiting for me in storage and I decided there and then I was going to keep it.

"What car?" he demanded.

"I have my Mom's car but it's in storage in Florida at the moment," I told him. I'll have to go get it I suppose after I tell Jenks not to sell it.

"What type of car is it?" he asked suspiciously.

I smiled but it made my mouth hurt when my lips stretched. Ow!

"It's a 2009 red 2-door Camaro," I told him happily thinking about the sweet ride.

"A sport scar!" he spat. "Absolutely not!" he told me emphatically.

"Edward!" I exclaimed. "I wasn't _asking_ you if I could keep my mother's car. I'm _telling_ you, that's what I'm going to do," I said, losing patience with him.

I would make some concessions for Edward, but not on everything.

He bounded off the bed to begin pacing again. At this rate he was going to wear a hole in the carpet. He paced last night as well, outside of the bathroom door while I bathed and removed the taint of _them_. I'd heard his muffled steps as he turned.

"Will you at least let me teach you to drive?" he implored. "I took a defensive driving class when I got my license," he told me proudly, "and I aced it."

I tried to smile again. I don't think Edward would make a good driving instructor. He liked to be in control too much, which he wouldn't have, if he wasn't in the driver's seat. But I could see it was important to him and I would concede on this point. I nodded hesitantly and Edward breathed a sigh of relief. I decided to see how it went and if it didn't work out, I'd ask one of the others to teach me or find an instructor in town.

"What do you have to do at home, that you don't want me around for?" he asked me suddenly.

Shoot. I thought he'd forgotten that.

"Just something that I need privacy for, Edward. It's nothing that you should worry about," I said evasively but with reassurance in my voice.

He looked at me suspiciously.

"You won't leave the house?" he asked for confirmation.

"No."

"Alright," he agreed.

Gee, thanks!

…

Edward asked me for my cell phone while we were eating breakfast and I was immediately suspicious about _why_ he wanted it. I already had his number and he had mine.

"Why?" I asked him with narrowed eyes.

His eyes were wary. I could see that he was thinking about lying. Oh, no you don't Edward!

I cocked a brow of expectation.

He coughed. "Um, I want to transfer your phone book into your new phone," he mumbled.

"_What _new phone?"

"This new phone," he replied, holding up the iPhone with its glossy white plastic casing.

"I _have_ a cell phone, Edward!" I said firmly.

"Nooo," he responded, drawing out the sound. "_You_ have a piece of shit pretending to be a cell phone," he growled. "I want you to use _this_ cell phone," he told me fiercely.

My brows rose again and my eyes narrowed further. The rest of the family sat in silence around the kitchen table, looking from me to Edward and back again as though they were watching a grand-slam tennis match following the ball to see who would win the point.

I crossed my arms over my chest and pursed my lips. What was he up to?

"What's so special about _that_ phone?" I asked him, inclining my head at the cell phone clutched in this hand.

His jaw clenched and his mouth tightened into a thin line – his classic pissed-off, I'm not getting my own way, Edward face.

"It answers!" he hissed.

"_What?"_ I asked him, scoffing in disbelief. Why would I have a cell phone that didn't answer?

"Yesterday, Mom and I tried to call you repeatedly. It was out of service!" he spat in disgust.

I gasped, pulling my phone from my jeans pocket to look at it. It looked okay to me; the little screen was active. I shook it as though that might make a difference and the phone might stop working suddenly, or the screen might tell me there was something wrong with it.

Stupid, huh?

"It's true, Bella," said Esme, defending Edward's position. "I called you at least a dozen times and each time I got a recorded messaging saying your phone was out of service," she said.

"I called you twice!" added Edward, "And you didn't answer! I didn't know where you were!" he yelled.

"Ah, a little busy at the time, Edward!"

"_Exactly_ the reason why I want you to have _this_ phone," he told me, and then he got real quiet.

What was he hiding? This conversation called for a different tactic.

"Edward," I said firmly, "tell me _how_ this particular phone is better than my phone, other than you think it's a 'piece of shit'," I said, quoting his earlier statement.

He looked shifty.

"It has internet," he told me, "and you can check your email. You haven't checked your email for awhile have you?"

I shook my head.

"Wouldn't you like to be able to do that without finding an internet cafe or using somebody else's computer?" he asked me, his tone cajoling.

I inclined my head in reluctant agreement. That would be nice – but not good enough!

"Anything else?"

"Um, you can download all sorts of Apps that can be useful or just fun," he said.

Now we were getting somewhere!

"Like what?"

"Oh, you can do your banking, look up a bus timetable (he cringed when he mentioned the bus), shop online, use a calculator, check the weather," he said, listing enumerable other benefits to having and using an iPhone, "find someon … " he trailed off abruptly.

Bingo! _Find someone!_ Is that what he was going to say. Oh, Edward! I thought sadly.

"Find _what_, Edward or should I ask, _who_?"

His jaw clenched as did his hand around the phone he held, sending his knuckles white.

"Edward!"

He swore under his breath and rolled his eyes. "Um, I can, um, track the position of this phone with my phone," he confessed.

"Track how?"

"Um, it's actually a 'Find My iPhone App' but it uses GPS to pinpoint the phones, and ergo, your, approximate location," he said, his jaw set mulishly.

"So, basically, you're saying you want to spy on me?" I asked him.

Unbelievable!

"NO!" he yelled and swallowed. "No, I just want to be able to find you," he said, his tone almost pleading. "Please use the phone, Bella. It will make me feel better," he whispered.

Finally!

Now he was being honest with me and not trying to manipulate me into doing what he wanted. I had every intention of using the phone because frankly I liked knowing that it would be more reliable that my current one and I could check my email. Using the phone was also one of the concessions I was willing to make to keep Edward sane. If he needed to be able to pinpoint my general location to make him feel better, then I would live with. I simply wanted him to tell me the truth!

"Where did it come from?" I asked him curiously. He hadn't left my side since he found me yesterday, other than when I was being examined or when I went to X-Ray, so I don't know when he found time to buy one, unless he sent one of his brothers out for it.

"It's my old phone," he told me. "I bought a new one a few months ago."

Hmm. Edward's current iPhone had a black case. I felt better accepting his old one knowing that he hadn't gone out and spent $200 buying me a new phone. I handed my phone to Edward and his expression was one of perfect relief.

Another point to Edward. Thirty / Fifteen.

"Thank you, Bella," he whispered, and then handed the two phones to Jasper.

"The software on the iPhone probably needs to be updated," he told Jasper, who nodded and got up from the table and disappeared from the room.

"How are you feeling this morning?" asked Esme with motherly concern.

I appreciated her care of me. I needed a mother figure after what happened yesterday.

None of the Cullen's had said anything to me about what happened yesterday when I entered the kitchen with Edward half an hour ago. We all said our good mornings and Edward seated me at the table beside him, and then he went to make me some toast and coffee. He'd tried to talk me into tea on the way downstairs, but I put my foot down and insisted on coffee.

I wanted, needed my morning coffee!

He also led me to the elevator on the third floor, but I pulled him towards the stairs instead. My skinned knees were a little stiff and sore but scabs were already forming and they'd be completely healed in a couple of weeks. I could walk perfectly fine and there was no reason why I shouldn't use the stairs like everyone else would.

"I'm fine thanks, Esme," I replied.

Edward and Carlisle each cocked a brow but didn't say anything. Rosalie fidgeted in her seat beside Emmett and Alice was staring at me sadly. I smiled wanly at her.

"I really am fine," I mouthed to her silently and she smiled wanly back at me.

Okay! If none of them were going to say anything, then I would!

"Emmett?"

He startled and looked up from where he was staring at his plate. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for helping to find me yesterday," I told him. "And for chasing those …" I swallowed, "guys."

He nodded but otherwise didn't respond. I didn't blame him – what else was there to say?

"Thank you, all of you," I said sincerely, looking around the table. "I don't want to think about what might have happened to me otherwise," I told them, my voice raspy with emotion.

"There is no need for thanks," said Carlisle. "The Cullen's look after their own," he told me earnestly and Esme nodded in confirmation. Edward squeezed my hand.

"It's true," he told me. "You are one of us."

Alice and Emmett added their own agreement but Rosalie remained silent.

I wanted to weep because they all considered me part of the family and not just a guest in their home – I was a Cullen!

Jasper came back and handed the two phones back to Edward.

"I've updated the software and downloaded the tracking App," he told Edward. "I've also transferred Bella's phone book and deleted yours. You'll need to send a text to the people in your phone book, Bella to tell them your new cell number," said Jasper.

"Thanks, Jasper," said Edward.

"Wait! I thought you'd just swap my SIM over?" I said, confused. No one said anything about a new cell number!

"This phone already has a SIM," Edward told me curtly. "You won't need the old one," he said firmly, as he pulled the back off my old phone and removed the SIM and the battery.

Before I knew what he was about, he threw the tiny SIM onto the tiled kitchen floor and ground the heel of his boot into it until I heard it shatter.

My mouth fell open in shock. He'd ground my SIM into dust!

I could only stare at him in disbelief as he stood up from the table and strode over to the trash can, hit the foot pedal to open the lid and threw the phone and the battery in, letting the lid slam. He brushed his hands together in a 'good riddance' gesture and reached under the kitchen sink for the dustpan and brush to sweep up the mess he'd made.

"Let me teach you how to use the iPhone," he offered excitedly, sitting down beside me again after he'd finished cleaning up.

I crossed my arms over my chest, narrowed my eyes and glared at him, then looked straight ahead.

"No thank you, Edward," I told him crisply.

I could see the others smirk from my peripheral vision as I gave Edward the cold-shoulder. I turned my head to address Jasper who was sitting beside Alice. He looked nervous suddenly and so he should be! He probably _knew_ Edward would do something like that; he was his best friend after all.

"Jasper?"

"Yes?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm gonna need to use those things today," I said vaguely so that Edward wouldn't catch on to what I was doing.

Jasper looked puzzled for a moment until he caught on and I saw understanding dawn in his expression. "Oh, sure. Anytime you want," he confirmed.

"Thank you," I said and stood up from the table. "I'll come downstairs when the Chief arrives," I told Edward and promptly left, leaving behind an incredulous Edward who had his mouth open, stunned that I would walk out on him. Good!

…

I strode into my bedroom and slammed the door. That … that … overbearing, manipulative, controlling …

"OOOHHH," I yelled with fury and stamped my foot but that only served to send quivers of pain through my skinned knee. Ow!

A soft knock sounded at my door.

"NOT NOW, EDWARD!" I yelled.

"It's Esme," came her soft voice from behind the wooden door.

Oh.

"Can I come in?" she asked softly.

I walked over and opened the door. She smiled at me and held up a large envelope.

"I thought you might need these," she said. I must have looked puzzled, because she clarified. "The photo's," she said softly.

I nodded. "Please come in Esme," I invited, standing away from the door so she could enter. She sat on the edge of the bed and placed the envelope beside her.

"Don't be too hard on him, Bella," she said softly. "He was terrified yesterday and he's scared today," she explained. "He wants to do anything and everything he can to make you safe, and give him peace of mind, and it doesn't occur to him to ask first."

I expelled a breath and sat beside her.

"I know, Esme. I know he's worried about me and I know he probably blames himself because I took the bus into town … but it's not his fault and he can't control everything I do just so he'll feel better and then expect me to go along with it all of the time," I sighed.

Esme wrapped her arm around my shoulders and hugged me.

"That's our Edward," she said simply.

"I know," I said, sighing deeply.

"I would have taken the phone without an argument, you know, if he'd just told me the truth up front and didn't try to manipulate me," I confessed to Esme.

"I know," she replied with a smile.

He was her son and my boyfriend and we were both stuck with him, forever, and neither of us would change a thing about him! Even if he did _drive _us to the edge of distraction most of the time.

"Are you really okay?" Esme queried, stroking my hair.

"Yes. I'm a little sore and I woke up having a nightmare about yesterday, but I'm a survivor, Esme. I don't intend to let _them_ make me afraid now that it's over. I'm stronger than I look," I told her. "I'm stronger than Edward thinks I am."

"Yes, I can see that. You just keep doing what you're doing, and he'll come to that realization as well, but he's stubborn so you'll need to be patient with him," she told me with a smile.

"I will," I promised her.

"Now, let's look through these photos and see if what you need is here," she suggested, picking up the envelope.

We spent the next hour together, looking through the images, until I had two that I thought I could use. They were clear, 8 x 10 color images and I decided they would scan well. I'd be able to work with these.

"These two," I told her indicating the two photos laying side by side on the bed.

She looked down at them and smiled.

"They're two of my favorites," she said and then she told me about when they were taken. I could understand why they were her favorites.

"I'll make some copies for you and Carlisle as well," I told her.

"Thank you, Bella," she said and kissed my forehead. "Well, I'll leave you to it. The Chief will be here in three hours. I'll come get you from Jasper's room when he gets here," she told me as she walked to the door.

"Thanks."

Esme had left the door open as she left and I noticed Edward loitering in the hallway between our bedrooms. I scooped up the photos and shoved them back into the envelope before he saw then, and then got up off the bed. I needed my shoulder bag and it was in Edward's room.

"Edward?" I called softly.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I should have told you … asked you," he corrected hurriedly, "if it was okay to give you my old SIM in place of yours."

I sighed again. I seemed to doing that a lot this morning.

"I forgive you, Edward. I know that you were just doing what you thought was right, but I need you to discuss things with me and ask my opinion, not make unilateral decisions for me," I told him, but I softened my reprimand with a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He hugged me and I hugged him back.

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you too, Edward," I reciprocated and tightened my arms around him, snuggling into his chest for a few moments. "Now, I need my shoulder bag which is still in your room and then I need a few hours to myself, okay?"

"'Kay," he pouted but he went to get my bag for me.

…

I spent the next three hours locked in Jasper's bedroom and I was happy with the results so far. I looked at the time on the laptop clock and noticed that it was nearly noon. The Chief would be here soon. I saved my work, closed the program and stretched my arms high from my seat on the desk chair. The stretch pulled at the bite mark on my breast but it was less sore now than it was earlier.

Rosalie had brought me some Arnica cream, a homeopathic remedy, when she dropped by Jasper's room earlier to see how I was – she thought I might be suffering from some muscle strain following the assault. I went into Jasper's bathroom to apply some of the gel to the bruise, avoiding the wounds caused by _his_ teeth. It seemed to be helping.

I invited Rosalie to sit with me and watch what I was doing, and she accepted, pulling over a side chair Jasper had by the window. I explained to her what I was doing with the images and how I was manipulating them to make two new images. She was fascinated and thought my idea for a birthday gift for Edward was inspired. She surprised me by being so complimentary.

"Bella, if you want to talk about what happened, I'll be happy to listen," she told me suddenly.

I looked at her, surprised by her offer. I didn't know quite what to say. Rosalie hadn't exactly made me feel very welcome the last two weeks.

"Um ..."

She huffed out a breath and then said, "I know what it's like to be assaulted," she confessed quietly.

I gulped. "Oh."

"It's the reason I came to live with the Cullen's four years ago," she told me.

I gave her a look of sympathy which she rejected harshly.

"I don't need or want your sympathy, Bella. I got my revenge and I've moved on, making a new life for myself," she told me blatantly. "I have Emmett now and the rest of the Cullen's – I don't need or want anything else."

I thought personally, that if all she needed or wanted in her life was Emmett and the Cullen's, then her life wasn't going to be very full; what about college and a career, travel, marriage, family? I don't think she's moved on as much as she insists she has, but I was prepared to listen to what she had to say because she was allowing me to get closer to her by telling me her story.

"When I was thirteen, my mom remarried," she began, staring straight ahead at nothing. "I didn't like him, but she thought the sun shined out of his ass," she told me scornfully. "He ignored me at first until I began to mature the summer after they married when I turned fourteen. I grew taller and my breasts got rounder and fuller. I started to look sixteen instead of fourteen," she relayed softly.

"At first, he started to look at me sneakily when Mom wasn't around and he thought I couldn't see, but I saw all of them," she said grimly. "Then he stepped it up and began the inappropriate comments about my body as well as the sneaky sleazy looks. Then came the accidental, on-purpose touches. Just brushes at first; of my breasts as he reached for the salt, or my ass as he squeezed through a doorway behind me."

I shuddered.

"I started wearing baggy clothes at home, hoping he'd lose interest but it had the opposite effect. He stepped up the harassing behavior, coming into my bedroom uninvited and barging in on me when I was in the bathroom. I got sick of it and I told Mom what was happening. She … didn't believe me," Rosalie said softly.

"A few weeks later, she went to work on a Saturday afternoon for a few hours and left me at home, alone. Royce, that was his name," Rosalie clarified, "he was out, but he came home a couple of hours after Mom left and he was drunk. He had three of his friends with him. They were all drunk," she told me acidly.

"I stayed in my room until I thought they'd left, but they'd just gone downstairs to the basement," she whispered. "I went into the kitchen to get something to drink and Royce was there getting another beer from the fridge. I was wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top because it was so hot and the air-conditioning wasn't working. He was leering at me and he came over to me and asked for a kiss. I told him no and he grabbed my face and forced one on me."

I blinked and looked down at my lap. I knew how that felt.

"I struggled and I punched him, and he slapped me to the floor," she said. "He was drunk and enraged," she remembered. "He caught me by my ponytail and he dragged me across the kitchen floor and down the stairs to the basement where his friends were."

"_Look what I found?"_ he told them with a snigger. _"Wanna have a little, fun?"_ he offered them.

Rosalie shuddered again, lost in her memories.

Nope, not over it at all!

Rosalie exhaled forcefully and continued. "Royce had me first," she said her eyes glassy and unfocused. "Then he gave me to his friends."

I gulped. "Did they …?"

She looked at me at last and shook herself as though bringing herself back to the present.

"No. Mom came home, so they didn't get the chance. Royce threatened me and warned me not to say anything, but I didn't listen. I told my mom. She didn't believe me. He told her that I enticed him, that I came on to him and asked him to make me a woman."

I shuddered. I found it difficult to understand how a mother of a fourteen year old daughter didn't believe her daughter when she said she'd been raped, and by her own husband no less.

"She slapped me and screamed at me to get out, so I did. I left and I went straight to the police station and reported the rape," she told me. "He was arrested and remanded to prison pending his trial because I was a minor."

She smiled gleefully. "Somehow, the other inmates found out about his little indiscretions with a child," she relayed, "and poor Royce met a very unhappy end. He never even made it to trial," she told me with a grim smile.

"What about his friends?" I asked her. I'd heard enough, but I was filled with a sense of morbid curiosity to know the rest of it.

"They all got prison sentences for being accessories to the sexual assault of a minor. I was placed into foster care and was lucky enough to be placed with the Cullen's. They wanted to adopt me, and I wanted them to, but Mom wouldn't give her consent. So, the day I turned eighteen, I had my surname legally changed with Carlisle and Esme's blessing."

"Thank you for sharing with me Rosalie. It helps knowing that I'm not alone."

She nodded at me.

"Can I … tell you some things?" I whispered.

She nodded again, and I began to tell her _my_ story.

…

Esme came to get me when the Chief arrived, knocking gently on Jasper's door. Rosalie had left about an hour ago and I'd worked steadily since then. Speaking about the experience with Rosalie _was_ cathartic as I knew it would be and talking to the Chief now would be easier for me because I'd be telling it for the second time. Each time got easier than the last.

I knew that it would be harder for Edward to hear it, than it would be for me to tell it.

It never once crossed my mind, that Edward wouldn't be present when I spoke to the police. He was a part of what happened and he was my boyfriend. He deserved to know. I already had too many secrets from him that I hadn't yet confessed – about the injuries I sustained in the accident and what they meant.

"Hello, Chief," I greeted him softly when Esme and I arrived downstairs and we walked into the formal living room. A female deputy was with him. The rest of the Cullen kids melted away leaving us in privacy, except for Edward who stayed by my side when I captured his hand in mine.

"Hello, Bella. How are you today?"

"I'm better, thank you. Shall we get started?" I said, leading the way to the grouping of sofas facing each other in the living room.

Esme and Carlisle started to leave and I asked them both to stay. They nodded and sat on either side of Edward and I on one of the long sofas. Esme took my right hand gently in hers and I still held Edward's with my other one. The Chief and his deputy sat on the opposite sofa facing us.

The Chief coughed awkwardly. "This is Deputy Meyer," he introduced us. "She's got some pretty extraordinary stenography skills, so she's going to be making a shorthand record of everything said here today. I'm also going to record it, with your permission?" he asked me.

I nodded and smiled at the Deputy who smiled back at me as she opened her notebook and took three sharpened pencils from her bag. She was a pretty lady in her mid thirties, of average height, and she was a little overweight. Her hair was a curly brown that glinted under the lights with reddish highlights. Her eyes were a deep dark brown like mine and they sparkled with life, though her demeanor was solemn given the reason she was here.

"First of all," began the Chief, "I want to tell you that we haven't yet apprehended the second attacker."

I stiffened as did Edward, his hand tightening around mine until he was squeezing tightly.

"Edward," I whispered to him.

"What!" he rasped.

"You're holding my hand too tightly," I told him.

He grimaced but relaxed his grip. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Ssshh," I calmed him. "It doesn't matter."

"Every officer on the peninsula is looking for him," the Chief told us, "but he's managed to slip through our net for the moment."

"What about the other asshole?" growled Edward. I saw Carlisle place a calming hand on Edward's shoulder.

"He's in custody in Port Angeles at the moment. He'll be transferred to Seattle tomorrow. He's got himself a lawyer and he's applied for bail, but the District Attorney is going to recommend against it because Bella is a minor and this is a sexual assault crime. It's also not his first offense," the Chief told us.

"If he's done this before, what's he doing walking around free?" demanded Edward.

"He did his time, Edward," replied the Chief. "I don't like it either, but it's the law. We're running his DNA through the state and federal databases; we've already found a few matches on some other open sexual assault cases. He'll be going away for a very long time," the Chief promised, "with or without Bella's testimony."

"Does that mean I won't need to testify, Chief Uley?"

"Possibly, Bella. If the other victims are prepared to testify in their own cases against James Cameron, the DA might not need your testimony."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I was prepared to testify but I would be just as happy not to. I didn't relish the thought of climbing into the witness box in a courtroom before a judge, a jury and an audience to tell a bunch of strangers what happened to me.

"And the other one," asked Carlisle. "Do you know who he is?"

"His name is Laurent Boucher," said Chief Uley.

_'The butchers son; a bloodthirsty man'_, I translated silently.

"He's of French descent," the Chief continued. "He's been living in Montreal for a number of years until he hooked up with Cameron a few years back."

"Does he have a criminal record as well?" Carlisle asked another question.

"Yes. He's a nasty character. He's got a rap sheet as long as both of my arms; a good deal of them for sexual offenses. He's got a sadistic nature," said the Chief and the muscle in his jaw ticked.

Edward's muscle near his mouth ticked as well and he tightened his hand on mine again.

"Why is he running around then?" hissed Edward.

"There are a stack of warrants for his arrest in Canada, but he always keeps one step ahead of the police. It's as though he has a sixth sense or someone on the inside," the Chief told us. "As soon as we capture him, we'll run his DNA to see if he's wanted for any offenses in the US."

I can't say it didn't worry me that he was still out there and I prayed the police would find him soon. I was abruptly relieved that Edward had insisted on giving me his iPhone with a tracking App.

"Edward, I want to get your statement first, and then you can go and we'll get Bella's."

"I'm not going anywhere," snarled Edward.

The Chief looked surprised and a little pissed at Edward's attitude. Carlisle placed another calming hand on his shoulder.

"Edward," he murmured in quiet warning.

Edward ran his free hand through his hair and blew out a breath of frustration. "I'm sorry, Chief."

"It's okay, Chief, I want him to stay," I assured him softly.

He nodded at both of us.

"Ahem. Okay, let's get started. So, Edward we have the statements from Jasper and Emmett, so I just need you to tell me in your own words what happened. Don't leave anything out and try to relay the sequence of events in their chronological order," he instructed.

Edward nodded. "Okay, well, I was surfing at La Push with Jasper and Emmett when Mom called me ..."

…

It took Edward about an hour to give his statement to the police. The Chief or Deputy Meyer would occasionally interrupt and ask Edward to clarify something but eventually they had everything that they needed. The Deputy would type it up and Edward would go down to the station to sign it.

Listening to Edward, was the first time I had heard the details of how he and his brothers came to find me and I was beyond relieved that Esme had called Edward when I didn't come home on time. I squeezed her hand with mine and whispered thank you to her.

She whispered, "You're welcome," back to me.

Now it was my turn.

"Okay, Bella. We need to get your statement now. Do you want to take a break first?" offered the Chief.

"No," I whispered, "I just want to get it over with," I told him.

I told them everything that had happened to me; everything _they_ did to me. It took almost two hours and I was exhausted at the end of it.

Edward was livid with fury and white with horror. He stood up at one point and began pacing around the living room, unable to sit still while I related the details. My voice cracked about half way through the telling, but I held it together and explained it clearly and concisely.

Telling Rosalie earlier had helped make it less ominous the second time around.

Towards the end, I heard a lamp shatter against the hardwood floor as Edward smashed the delicate porcelain piece to the floor. Edward stood beside it with clenched fists and an expression of murderous rage on his face.

Carlisle had to go to him and lead a protesting Edward from the room. Esme cringed because the lamp base he'd broken wasn't exactly cheap, but she stayed with me while I finished and held me against her with an arm around my shoulders.

"Okay, thank you, Bella. That ought to do it. We'll type it up and call you and Edward when they're ready for your signatures. You did great, Bella," the Chief praised me.

"Chief Uley?"

"Yes?"

"Can we leave the signing until Monday please? It's Edward's birthday on Sunday and I don't want there to be any reminders of what happened yesterday."

He nodded. "Yes, we can do that, Bella. Monday. Deputy Meyer will call you. What's your cell phone number?"

"0414 92 ..." I trailed off. That was my old number.

"Actually, Chief. I have a new number but I'm not sure what it is. Can Deputy Meyer call me on the house phone here?"

He said that was okay, and he and Deputy Meyer stood up to take their leave. Esme walked them to the door and I went to find Edward. He was on the back porch, pacing while Carlisle talked quietly to him.

"Edward?" I called softly.

"Bella!" he said, his voice pitched a little higher than normal.

He strode over to me in three long strides and gathered me into his arms.

"I had no idea," he whispered as he rubbed his face against my hair.

"I know, Edward, but it's over now. Please, try not to dwell on it," I begged him. "Cameron is in custody and the police will find Boucher. They can't hurt us anymore," I soothed, rather unsuccessfully because Edward only clutched me tighter.

I knew he would take it hard. If I thought my battle for independence over the phone and the car were tough, I knew that the battles to come would be even harder to win especially while Boucher was on the loose.

I begged Carlisle with my eyes to intervene before Edward went off the deep end into the pits of despair and obsessive, compulsive overdrive.

"Edward, Bella why don't you go inside and start dinner. None of us have had lunch and I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Yes! Good!

Edward shot his father an expression of disbelief that he was thinking about food at a time like this.

"Yes, let's. I'm starved," I told them, taking Edward by the hand and leading him into the house. I got him one of Esme's pinafore aprons and tied it around him then put one on myself, turning my back to Edward so he could tie it for me.

Carlisle was heading through the kitchen to the hallway beyond when I called out to him.

"Carlisle?" He turned to look at me inquiringly. "Thanks."

He nodded and smiled, and then left Edward in my capable hands.

…

I spent another hour in Jasper's room after we all finished our linner (our late lunch/early dinner) which drove Edward nuts because he wanted to watch my every move and he couldn't do that if I wasn't within his sight. He didn't know what I was doing or where I was in the house which I was relieved about but I didn't trust him not to snoop if left to his own devices.

Jasper invited Edward to play an X-Box game with him and Emmett, and I encouraged him shamelessly, bolting upstairs as soon as he was safely in the basement.

Rosalie came with me and brought Alice with her this time. They sat quietly for the most part only asking occasional questions as I finished enhancing the new images I'd made. When they were as perfect as I could make them, I printed off some 10 x 8 inch copies and showed the girls.

"Oh, Bella," breathed Alice in wonder. "They are truly beautiful," she said.

Rosalie nodded. "Edward's going to love them," she agreed.

I was pleased and I blushed at their praise.

"Good. Can one of you take a USB into the photo store in town tomorrow and have four 27 x 19 inch, matt frameless images printed for me. I would go myself, but Edward won't let me out of his sight for a second and I don't want him to see them until Sunday," I explained.

"I'll do it," offered Alice.

"Do you have some frames?" asked Rosalie.

"No. I was just going to use the existing photo frames on the wall above Edward's bed."

"Why don't we buy the frames?" suggested Alice. "None of us have bought him a gift yet and we usually leave it low-key," she explained, "but this is would be a wonderful gift from all of us, that is if you don't mind, Bella?"

"Not at all. I think it's a great idea. I saw some beautiful leather frames in the window display of a picture framers I passed in town yesterday. They'd be perfect for these photos; very masculine and they're the right size."

"Do you want us to have the photo's matted and framed, Bella?" asked Rosalie.

"Yes, could you? That would be really great. Ask them to use a white matt with at least a four inch border; that will showcase the photographs perfectly."

"We'll buy some wrapping paper as well," Alice said excitedly, bouncing up and down.

"Um, do you think Edward would like it if I made him a cake?" I asked their opinion.

"No!" snorted Rosalie, "But don't let that stop you. It's time for Edward to get past Rob's death and start celebrating his birthday again," she said. "No one expects him to throw the party of the century but his life hasn't stopped just because his brother died on their birthday."

I am certain that Rosalie didn't mean for that to sound as harsh as it did, but I agreed with the sentiment if not the language she'd used.

I copied the files to a USB and gave it to Alice telling her that I would give her some cash for the printing in the morning.

After tidying up Jasper's room, I slid the photos I'd used as well as the 10 x 8 inch images I'd printed into the envelope and went to find Esme so I could give them back to her. I didn't want Edward to find them. Both Esme and Carlisle were in the den watching a documentary on television and I handed Esme the envelope, shyly inviting them to look at the images I'd made.

Esme cried and Carlisle looked a little choked up.

I told them I was having some larger images printed for them which they could frame and explained Alice's idea about the framing of the photographs as Edward's birthday gift from his siblings. They also thought it was a fabulous idea.

"Um, Esme?" I said, nibbling at my lip. Ow!

She swiped at her eyes, "Yes?"

"I'd like to make Edward a cake and cook his favorite dishes for his birthday dinner. Is that okay?"

If Esme disagreed with Rosalie's opinion, then I wouldn't do it, but I hoped she also thought it was a good idea.

She did, as did Carlisle.

…

I spent the night with Edward in his room again – it seemed to make him calmer and I have to admit I felt secure being close to him as well. I'd started to go to my own room to sleep when we retired for the night, and he stared at me gloomily on the third floor landing.

"Let me get my pajamas, Edward, and I'll be right in, okay?"

He brightened immediately but followed me into my room instead of going into his own. I sighed (again!) but this time inwardly. We cuddled in his large bed and I fell asleep within minutes of lying down.

The next morning, I reminded Edward that I need to go into town to the jewelers. He took me after breakfast, parking in front of the store on the street. The shop assistant who'd served me on Thursday looked up and gasped when she saw my face as I walked through the door. My lip was still swollen with an ugly looking scab over the healing cut, and a dark purple bruise graced my right cheek.

She glared accusingly at Edward and I hastened to correct her mistake.

"Hello, I was in here on Thursday. I left some rings and a necklace to be cleaned," I said quickly.

"Why yes, Dear. I remember you," she said, staring at my face.

"Oh, good. I'd like to collect them please," I told her and then continued before she could leave. "I'm really pleased I dropped them off when I did, because I was mugged later that afternoon," I told her.

No need to share the exact details with the entire town!

She gasped in horror and inquired after my wellbeing. I told her I was fine and healing well, that my boyfriend (I grabbed his hand), Edward, had come to my rescue. She clucked over me for another few moments, and then went in the back to get my jewelery.

"Thanks," whispered Edward in my ear. "She's one of the biggest gossips in town."

"Anytime. There was no way I was going to let her think that you did this," I said, pointing to my face.

Edward scowled.

"Here they are, Dear. The stone has been reset and they're all sparkling clean and shiny," she said, sliding the rings and the cross onto a black velvet mat.

They did indeed look beautiful again. Edward peered at me curiously when I picked up the two rings and slid them onto the ring finger of my right hand. They were a little snug still but I thought they'd fit well once the swelling in my fingers subsided. I decided to keep them on and I picked up the cross hanging on its new chain and held it around my neck.

"Edward, will you fasten the clasp for me please?"

I held my hair away from my neck as his large fingers fumbled with the tiny clasp but he eventually connected the two ends securely and I tucked the cross beneath my shirt so it lay against my skin.

I paid the bill and we left, holding hands as we walked out the door. The shop assistant was gazing at us delightedly, holding her clasped hands up to her breast. Edward would be a hero in Forks before the day was over.

"Can you take me to the Thriftway, Edward? I need to pick up a few things."

I'd spent some time this morning talking to Esme about Edward's favorite dishes and looking through the recipe cards. I had a list of ingredients to buy that I didn't have at the house but none of it was anything that would tip Edward off to what I was planning.

The Thriftway was crowded and my physical appearance drew the quizzical stares of the other customers, but it wasn't like I could grab the PA mike and make a general announcement that I was mugged! I grabbed a grocery cart, hoping that the jewelery shop assistant was as big a gossip as Edward had implied.

I spent the afternoon with Edward cuddling in his embrace while we watched a romantic comedy in the den. He held my left hand, alternating between stroking my wedding ring finger and fiddling with the rings I wore on my right hand.

I heard Alice and Rosalie come home at around three in the afternoon and Alice nodded at me as she passed the door to the den on her way upstairs. I was giddy with excitement. I couldn't wait to see them and I escaped upstairs to Alice's room as soon as I convinced Edward that I would be with his sister and I wasn't leaving the house.

The framed photo's propped on two armchairs in Alice's room looked magnificent; even better than I ever imagined.

"Wow!"

"They are aren't they," agreed Alice. "Rosalie and I will wrap them later and we can give them to Edward after dinner tomorrow night," she suggested. "I got you a card to give Edward as well – I hope you like it? I didn't know if you got one on Thursday and it would have been hard for you to buy one today with Edward following your every move," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Thank you, Alice. I appreciate that, and I'm sure I'll love it," I told her giving her a hug.

Somehow, I found myself sleeping in Edward's bed again that night. It was becoming a habit and not one I thought Carlisle and Esme would approve of, irrespective of what happened to me and Edward's irrational fears.

I decided to worry about it on Monday as I assumed I would be sleeping with Edward again on his birthday, and cuddled into his arms crooking one of my legs over his. I woke up in the morning, on his birthday, still clasped firmly in his arms; I don't think I moved once during the night.

I stretched my legs and my top knee bumped against something rigid making Edward hiss and stiffen momentarily. I stilled my movements thinking that I'd hurt him somehow; then I realized with embarrassment what it was. I blushed and giggled nervously – it was the 'morning wood' my former baby-sitter in Florida, Tanya Denali used to talk about with her girlfriends while she talked on our phone.

"Does something amuse you?" asked Edward, his own amusement evident in his voice.

"No," I giggled again.

I should have been nervous because of what happened, but I wasn't. I couldn't be afraid of Edward, not ever!

"You're not afraid?" he asked me quietly.

"No. I could never be afraid of you, Edward," I assured him.

"That's good," he said stroking my back and arm.

I leaned up and kissed him sweetly on the mouth. The scab on my lip was still too icky to initiate a more intimate kiss, but I wanted to greet him on his birthday with something nice.

"Happy birthday," I whispered.

He stilled his stroking of my back momentarily then began again. "Thank you, Bella," he whispered back, leaning down to return my kiss being careful to avoid my healing wound.

"What are you going to do today?" I asked him, snuggling again.

"Spend it with you."

"Isn't there something you'd like to do today; something you had planned?"

I needed him occupied for the afternoon at least, so I could bake his cake and cook his favorite meal.

"Nothing important," he replied, unwittingly uncooperative.

"Hmm. Okay. Well then let's spend the morning together and then this afternoon you can spend some time with your brothers while I spend some time with Alice and Rosalie."

"But I want to spend my entire day with you," he pouted.

"Yes, I know you do, and I'd like that as well, but I promised to spend some time with Alice and Rosalie today helping them with a project of theirs. It will only be for a few hours, I promise," I lied to him.

"Tell them to do it tomorrow!" he ordered, his jaw set. "It's my birthday!"

"I can't Edward. It needs to be done today. Tomorrow will be too late."

That was the truth, wasn't it?

"Please, Edward," I whined, pouting back at him.

He scowled. "Oh, alright! But they owe me," he bit out.

Yes!

I needed to warn the girls not to deny that we were spending the afternoon working on a project together when Edward mentioned it to them (and he would!) and I had to ask Jasper and Emmett to disappear with Edward for at least three hours, four if they could get away with it.

I spent the morning with Edward as promised, snuggling in his bed. We went downstairs at around eight to make an appearance and get some breakfast and I used the opportunity to quickly clue-in the other kids when Edward wasn't looking or listening. We disappeared upstairs again and remained there until one o'clock when it was time for Edward to leave with his brothers.

They were taking him to Port Angeles for the afternoon to go ten pin bowling of all things. He howled in outrage when they suggested it, whining about wearing public bowling shoes and the probability of contracting Athletes Foot, but Emmett wore him down promising to stop by a pharmacy first so that Edward could buy some preventative dusting powder. Edward grudgingly agreed on the proviso that they would be home by five o'clock and I promised not to leave the house.

I rolled my eyes, but agreed. Anything to get rid of him for a few hours!

As soon as Emmett's jeep rolled down the driveway I hurried into the kitchen and began pulling ingredients from the fridge and larder to make Edward's cake – _Red Velvet Layer Cake with Vanilla Frosting_. I'd only made it once before so I prayed I wouldn't stuff it up because I didn't have time to make another one.

Once the blood-red batter was in the oven in three equal sized cake pans, I started to prepare the main course of very rare roast beef (Edward apparently like his beef bleeding all over the plate), roasted potatoes, maple glazed roasted parsnips and, wait for it … peas.

Yep, peas again! What on earth did the Cullen's have against other types of green vegetables?

I almost laughed hysterically with relief when I removed the three cake pans from the oven. They were perfectly risen, even in color and not too brown. The texture was springy and the sides of each cake had pulled away from the pan. I turned them out carefully and slid them onto cooling racks then started to make the frosting I would need.

By the time I heard Emmett's jeep coming up the drive, the cake was frosted and hidden in the laundry. The beef was ready to go in the oven, the dining room was decorated courtesy of Alice and Rosalie, and the table was set; Esme had done that when she wandered in about an hour ago offering her help. She'd been to Port Angeles for a few hours and she'd arranged for her and Carlisle's gift to Edward to be delivered. It would be arriving that afternoon.

I was curious about what it was they'd gotten him that couldn't be collected and which had to be delivered but I was too distracted to really worry about it.

Emmett and Jasper had been ordered to bring Edward in via the front door and not the one to the kitchen. I could see Emmett yanking Edward by the arm as he tried to detour toward the back of the house and I giggled, and then I walked into the front foyer to greet him.

I'd had just enough time to shower quickly and dress before he got home and I was wearing a dress of Alice's that she bought a few months ago but had never worn. It was made from a soft chiffon fabric with a round neckline and flirty cap sleeves. It was red, Edward's favorite color. I suddenly noticed a theme – blood red cake, bleeding beef and a red dress! I teamed the dress with a pair of silver Mary-Jane evening shoes from Esme's closet that had a one inch heel – perfect!

Alice had pulled my hair up into a casually messy chignon at the back of my head and Rosalie applied a thick layer of cover-up makeup to my cheek. It didn't hide the bruise completely, but it did diminish its appearance. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about my lip.

The guys came into the house, laughing and I was elated that Edward seemed genuinely happy on his birthday. He deserved to be. He spotted me standing by the stairs and came to an abrupt halt, his expression a picture of arrested delight.

"Hi," I said to him.

"Hi," he replied hoarsely. "Are we going somewhere?" he asked hesitantly.

"Nope. I just thought it would be nice to dress up for your birthday," I told him hooking my arm around his to lead him into the living room where the rest of the family had gathered, while Edward stared at me distractedly.

"Happy birthday, Edward!" they all chorused as we entered the room.

Edward blushed and tried to back out of the room, but I wouldn't let him, tugging him forward so he was the center of attention. Carlisle handed him a drink and Edward took a sip. His head shot up and he stared wide-eyed at his father.

Carlisle winked at him.

Edward grinned and eagerly took a larger sip the second time around.

We _were_ going to give Edward his gifts after dinner, but the delivery had arrived while I was showering and it was ready to present to Edward so we all decided to give the gifts before dinner instead. I was excited and nervous at the same time about Edward's reaction.

Carlisle piped up from across the room.

"Okay boys. We have a lovely dinner to sit down to and some gifts for Edward, but if you'd like to go upstairs to shower and change before we get started, now is your chance," he said.

Edward blushed again at the mention of gifts, but he kissed me and went upstairs with his brothers.

_'Please let him react well to the gifts, whatever it is his parent's got him.'_

I had a feeling I now knew what it was and I was nervous that he would react badly. How did they know? I resolved to stand beside Edward the entire time, and hold his hand tightly. For his parent's sake, I prayed that Edward would accept it in the loving manner that it was being given.

Edward, Jasper and Emmett came back downstairs after about twenty minutes looking and smelling as fresh as three daisies. I was sitting on the sofa chewing on my thumbnail nervously and I stood up abruptly when he strode into the room. He walked over to me, leaned down and kissed me.

Hmm. Edward fragrance. I loved it.

Everyone chatted and relaxed for a few minutes, enjoying a drink; cocktails for the adults and mocktails for the rest of us, until Carlisle gently tapped the side of his glass with an ice pick to call our attention.

"Ahem. Edward, this day of celebration has been a long time coming and it's all because of Bella (I blushed) who wanted to do something special for your birthday despite the events of last week. She was the catalyst we needed to get off our backsides and do something that reminded us all how special you are to us. The birth of you and your brother was a wonderful day for your mother and I, Edward, and it _will be_ celebrated again," he decreed.

Edward looked down at the floor for a moment and squeezed my hand. I squeezed his back. He took a deep breath, his face pale, and he looked around the room at his gathered family – their excitement and joy were evident. Edward looked shocked, as if he was surprised they thought he deserved their accolades and congratulations.

Carlisle coughed again as emotion caught in his throat before he continued his speech.

"Yes, it's true that today is also a sad day of remembrance for us and we _will _remember Robert, always with love in our hearts and memories, but his death will no longer overshadow what is also a day of celebration for all of us."

Carlisle charged his glass and the rest of us followed suit.

"Happy seventeenth birthday, Edward."

"Hear, hear," chorused the rest of us.

"Speech, speech," called Emmett and Jasper, as I giggled; Edward blushed, and then scowled at his brothers before reluctantly complying.

"Um, thanks everyone. I know I've been a bit of a … prick about my birthday (everyone sniggered or chortled in agreement) for a long time, but, um, it was the only way I could reconcile the day of Rob's death and the day of our birth in my own mind."

He slid his hand through his hair in the classic nervous Edward gesture.

"I've actually had a great day today (he sounded surprised), spending it with the people I love and who love me back (he smiled lovingly at me) and I promise I'll try to do better in the future, about my birthday at least. I'm not making any promises about anything else!" he warned the room.

We all laughed.

"And you know" he said pausing for effect, "it's Bella's sixteenth birthday in a few months, so we'll be able to celebrate another family member's special day."

I stilled momentarily because my sixteenth birthday would the first anniversary of my mom and Phil's deaths but I couldn't insist that Edward celebrate his birthday and not expect him to want to rejoice in mine, when our negativity about the day stemmed from the same reasons. The problem was that Edward didn't yet know that my parents died on my birthday, as Rob did on theirs.

Esme walked over to us and hugged and kissed her son. Her face was a picture of happiness and excitement. Carlisle shook his hand and then they exchanged an awkward man-hug because they were embracing in public even if the 'public' was the rest of the family. His brothers and sisters shook his hand or kissed his cheek and then it was my turn.

"Edward, you've made me very happy. I am so grateful that you came into my life. Thank you for being you," I told him. "Happy birthday," I said, and then I reached up on my tippy-toes to kiss his mouth.

His arms held me tightly and he stroked his face against my hair while his hands roamed over my back. One of his large warm hands came to rest in the small of my back and then he slid it down to cup my buttock and give it a gentle squeeze.

I yelped in surprise and embarrassment.

"Edward!" I chided, blushing as red as one of the beetroots I'd used in his cake to give it the blood-red color.

He grinned lecherously at me and then patted my buttock gently before moving his arm so that it was round my waist.

"Alright, we have some gifts for you, Edward and we hope that you find as much pleasure in them as we will gain in giving them to you."

Alice and Rosalie walked behind one of the sofas and picked up one side each of the large wrapped package that was the framed photographs. They'd wrapped it in brightly striped paper and affixed a huge red bow across one corner.

"This is from the five of us," said Alice indicating everyone except their mom and dad.

Edward blushed again but took the parcel from his sisters and placed it down on the coffee table to strip away the paper. Alice and Rosalie had placed the frames facing each other so Edward would need to lift one of them away to see them, effectively making sure he saw both of the photographs at the same time.

He gasped when he saw them for the first time and he choked up, in much the same way as Carlisle had when he'd seen the smaller unframed images I'd given to him and Esme yesterday.

I had taken two photographs of the eleven-year-old Edward and Robert playing their instruments; one of Edward at the piano and one of Robert playing the acoustic guitar. Using the photographic software I'd downloaded, I scanned the images and cropped them until only the hands playing the instruments were the focus of each photograph, and then I enhanced each image, sharpening the lines and repairing any flaws, converting them to black and white images until what remained was two hands playing the piano, and two hands fingering the strings of a guitar.

Each photograph had a short history printed on the bottom edge in an unobtrusive but stylish white font so it could be read on the dark background of the photograph. The provenance included their full names, the date the photograph was taken, and their date of birth. Rob's also included his date of death.

**Edward Anthony Cullen, photographed 20th June 2004, born 20th June 1993**

**Robert Patrick Cullen, photographed 20th June 2004, born 20th June 1993, died 20th June 2004. May he rest in peace.**

"Did you do this?" he whispered to me.

"Yes," I whispered back. "Your mom and dad gave me some photos, and I used Jasper's computer equipment. That's why I needed some time alone," I explained to him, "so I could work on the images. Your brothers and sisters contributed the leather frames. Do you like them?" I asked him uncertainly.

"Oh, Bella, I love them. I can't begin to explain to you what these mean to me. I love you," he told me emotively, grasping my hand tightly in one of his.

I smiled in relief as did the rest of the Cullen's.

"Where shall I hang them?" he asked excitedly.

"Over your bed!" I told him emphatically.

He grinned and nodded his agreement. The partially naked ladies hanging over his bed would be relegated to a storage cupboard or the attic, or better yet, the local dump.

"Thank you all. These are amazing and very special. I will treasure them always," he told us. His brothers clapped him on the back and his sisters kissed his cheek.

"Okay," said Carlisle as he and Esme walked forward.

"We have one more gift for you Edward and this one is from your mother and I. Your mother learned some information from one of her clients in Port Angeles a few weeks ago so we, ahem, decided to take the plunge as it were, and we bought you something that we hope you enjoy for many years to come. If you'll all follow me," he instructed leading Edward from the room. I followed closely behind as he still hadn't let go of my hand.

Carlisle stopped before a set of closed double doors on the east side of the large house. It was a cozy room which received a good deal of sun through its large picture windows and french doors that led out onto a bricked patio. It was a room mainly used by Esme who enjoy the morning sun – when it deigned to shine – while she worked.

Esme moved to stand beside Carlisle and he opened the doors with a flourish.

Sitting in the middle of the room that had been cleared of much of its previous furniture was a brand new, glossy black, Steinway Baby Grand Piano spotlighted by the crystal chandelier hanging above it that lighted the room. The piano lid was up as was the lid of the keyboard and a matching leather padded piano bench was positioned before it.

Edward stood in the doorway to the room, frozen in shock as he stared disbelievingly at the magnificent instrument for long minutes. No one said a word or made a single sound but we all stared at him and waited with bated breath.

Edward's lips eventually parted and he gasped, and then he walked slowly over to it, around it, lovingly stroking the glossy wood. He sat before the keyboard, placed his hands on the keys and began to play.

The piece he chose to play, was exquisite and the entire room was silent except for the few words Esme whispered to me, "He's playing _'Breathe'_ by Greg Maroney."

I thought it was an apt piece; by playing the piano again and in particular the instrument his parents had given him, Edward was allowing himself to breathe once more.

The applause in the room was deafening as Edward played the final notes. I rushed over to him, crying and threw myself into his lap, embracing him.

"Edward, that was so beautiful," I told him, wiping the tears from my eyes. Would Edward's playing always reduce me to tears of joy? – I think it would, always.

"Thank you, Bella, thank you for everything," he said with deep feeling which was reflected in eyes; eyes which where dark green pools of love. His parents came over and I stood up to allow them to congratulate Edward and accept his heartfelt thanks. Esme asked him to play another piece for us and he said he would. My relief that he accepted the gift, especially after he told me at the auditorium that it was too soon, was immense. He just needed a little push – a fait accomplis, if you like.

"Wait, Edward! Please, I need to put the beef in the oven; just wait five minutes, please?" I pleaded with him. I didn't want to miss anything.

"Okay, Baby. I'll come with you, and then we'll come back here and I'll play for awhile longer," he said, walking over to me.

"We'll be back in a minute," he told the gathering, leading me by the hand down the long hallway toward the kitchen on the opposite side of the enormous house.

I opened the oven door and checked on the roasting vegetables and then slid the tray with its large piece of beef into the hot oven. It would only take about forty minutes to cook if I was to serve it bleeding the way Edward liked it. I picked up the thin electronic kitchen timer from the counter where I'd left it when I baked the cakes and set it for thirty minutes. I decided to take it with me back to the music room so I wouldn't lose track of the time.

When I looked up, Edward was staring at me with an expression I was unable to find the words to describe but if I had to describe it, I would say that it was an all consuming expression of love and desire. His skin sparkled with it as he stood in the early evening light that was flooding through the kitchen french doors as the sun made its slow descent.

He walked over to me and lifted my chin with a gentle finger and then held my face reverently in the palms of his hands. He stared deeply into my eyes and I stared right back into his as we communed silently for a few moments before he bent his head to touch his mouth to mine, bestowing a kiss of such aching feeling that I felt it in every cell of my body – an everlasting, unbreakable devotion and passion for the other.

When we came back into the music room, fifteen minutes had passed but no one said anything to either of us. Edward accepted a glass of sparkling mineral water from his father and took a few sips before handing it back to him and taking his place before the piano.

The second, third and forth pieces he played for us were, _'Always', 'Daybreak', and 'Tundra Swan'_, each played just as beautifully as the last one was. The family sat in the sofas and armchairs around the perimeter of the room and I sat beside Edward on the piano bench lost in the rhythm of his music. Unfortunately the time passed far too quickly and the electronic timer beeped just after Edward played the final notes of the _'Tundra Swan'_.

"Dinner calls," I laughed, holding up the beeping device.

Dinner was cooked to perfection and Esme, Alice and Rosalie help me lay it out on platters and into bowls so we could take it into the dining room. Candles were flickering down the center of the table that was set with a white table cloth and the Cullen's best china, silverware and glassware. Some sparkling confetti was sprinkled down the length of the table and an arrangement of red flowers graced the center of the table – the Gemini birth flower, the zodiac sign of the twins, was a red rose, representing passionate love and beauty, Esme told me.

Alice and Rosalie had decorated the room with some helium filled birthday balloons in glittering maroon and white, which floated up to cover the ceiling. Thankfully the chandeliers were low-hanging over the table, so the balloons wouldn't interfere with them and damage the fixtures if they melted. I asked Alice why she chose maroon and not red and she told me that the birth color for somebody born between June fourteenth and June twenty-third was maroon.

She'd printed out a little card in a stylized font with the meaning of the color written on it, and placed one at each setting on the table. It described him to a T.

_'The maroon birthday boy is intelligent and holds an understanding of what's right. He likes to make things go his own way which can sometimes cause trouble by not thinking of other people's feelings. He can be patient when it comes to love but when he meets the right person, it's impossible to find a better love'._

Esme switched on the stereo so that soft piano music piped into the dining room and she called our men into the dining room. Edward took his place beside his mother with my place now beside his and I laid the platter of beef in front of him so he could carve. It bled all over the platter so that the slices of beef were swimming in clear red juices. It was a little rare for my taste and the others as well, but this was Edward's birthday and that was the way he liked to eat his beef, so no one complained.

Edward especially, ate with enjoyment and he thanked me for cooking it for him. I blushed and told him it was, "My pleasure; any time."

After the main course was consumed the lights were turned down and I very carefully carried in his birthday cake lit with four hissing sparklers instead of candles. We all sang happy birthday to him and Jasper took some photos with my camera which I'd left on the side board for just this moment.

Alice yelled at him to make a wish before the sparklers burned out and he did, closing his eyes tightly so that it would come true. We all cheered when they finally went out, and then Edward picked up the bone handled cake knife and made the first slice into cake. He passed it over to me to cut the remaining slices and each person received a wedge of the blood red, _'Red Velvet Layer Cake'_, Edward's being the largest – it was delicious!

Esme eventually shooed Edward and I away when I tried to clean up the kitchen, so we walked by tacit agreement back to the music room which is what it now was. He turned down the lights on the chandelier and settled me onto one of the sofas. I laid there and listened to him play until I fell into that drowsy state between sleep and wakefulness, only rousing when he carried me up to bed cradled in his arms.

Happy birthday, Edward Cullen!

…

A/N: Did you like Bella's gift to Edward? Review and let me know.

The gift of the piano from his parents is the smallest of the baby grand piano's manufactured by Steinway at 156cm (about 63 inches). Its approximate cost, brand new is $19,000 USD.

I hope it wasn't too schmaltzy towards the end; I was trying to put into words the depth of feeling that Edward and Bella felt for each other.

The meaning of red roses for a June birthday and the color maroon are true – you can Google it.

Photos for the chapter are on my blog as usual as well as the music referred to in this chapter. It's very beautiful and well worth listening to, even if you think you don't like piano music. The link is on my profile page.

I have the 'Find my iPhone' App that Edward has Jasper install on Bella's phone on my own Apple devices and it's a nifty little App to have, especially if you're prone to leaving your iPhone somewhere. You need another Apple device or a computer to use it.

A bit of trivia for you: the iPhone that Edward gives to Bella costs around $200 in the US but in Australia, the same phone costs $700 – go figure, huh?


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer is the author and owner of the Twilight Saga. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

…

Beta'd by Marshmellow007

A/N: This chapter contains half a lemon – my first one!

…

Chapter 14 – Confession is Good for the Soul

Monday morning found Edward and I at the Forks Police station to sign our statements. We were greeted by a subdued Chief Uley and Deputy Meyer who were mourning the loss of a long-time colleague who'd died earlier that morning from a heart attack. I remembered Daisy McAllister from when Charlie was Chief of Police but I hadn't seen her since my return to Forks at the beginning of June. I might have felt sadder about her passing had I renewed my acquaintance with her in the last three weeks, but I hadn't, and I was dealing with the scars of my own horrible week.

I expressed my sympathy for their loss and then followed Deputy Meyer into a small interrogation room where Edward and I could read through our statements.

"I'm sorry about the room," said Deputy Meyer softly, "but the conference room is being used at the moment."

I smiled. The conference room was a long section of floor space along the back of the station separated from the rest of the room by glass partitions. I can't imagine that it afforded anyone much privacy – I'd nicknamed it the 'goldfish bowl' when I was a kid and I'd even pasted cut-outs of fish on the glass that I'd made from colored craft paper and decorated. One of them was still there – its edges curling up, faded and lonesome. The interrogation room was infinitely better as I didn't want to be on display for everyone in town who came into the station.

"That's okay, Deputy Meyer."

She slid our typed statements across the table and gave us a red pen each and a few sheets of notepaper.

"Read them carefully and make any corrections on the statement with the red pen. If you have any questions, jot them down on the notepaper there. Don't sign them yet as they need to be witnessed by a police officer," she said and smiled at us. "Come and get me when you're ready. My desk is just outside the door," she told us and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"You okay?" asked Edward, squeezing my hand.

"I'm fine," I told him. "Let's just get this over with so we can get out of here and go home," I said.

We both bent our heads over our respective statements and started reading them. Mine was well laid out, detailing the events in point form in their order of occurrence. It was an emotionless retelling of factual information – nothing more. I made a few corrections but otherwise I was willing to sign it. Edward made a few corrections to his own and then slid it across to me. I picked it up to read and handed him my own.

Edward was in a bad mood when he'd finished reading my statement, but I was amused by some of his. Edward's recounting of his actions at the pool and the Thriftway market was matter-of-fact and pithy. If the situation I'd been in wasn't so dire I might have thought it was hilarious. As it was, I couldn't help but think of some of it, as being mildly funny.

"Are you ready?" I asked him.

He scowled. "Yes," he said curtly.

I got up and went to get Deputy Meyer – she was exactly where she said she'd be. She read over our corrections and took them back to her desk to make the necessary changes. Edward was silent but he drummed his fingers impatiently against the metal table until she came back five minutes later with new copies. We read them over again, signed them and Deputy Meyer added her signature as a witness. She went to make us copies as we followed her out of the room and over to the counter at the front of the station.

"Here they are," she said handing them to us. "We'll let you know if we need anything else. You look after yourself, Bella," she said kindly.

"I will," I replied, pulling Edward who'd opened his mouth to say something, toward the front doors. "Bye," I said and we were gone.

"Why'd you do that for? I wanted to ask her something?" he complained.

"Because I don't want to talk about it anymore, Edward. I just want to forget about it and enjoy my day with you," I told him.

His face softened and he bent to kiss me. "I want to spend the day with you too, Baby, but I still want to ask her something. Stay where I can see you," he ordered, and he was back inside the station before I could stop him.

I stomped over to the car to wait for him, tapping my foot in irritation. He came back out after ten long minutes. His expression was one of terror and panic when I wasn't where he had left me but it quickly turned to anger and irritation as he strode toward me.

"I thought I told you to stay on the porch?" he hissed at me, pressing a button on his key fob to unlock the car doors.

"Nooo. You told me to stay where you could see me," I retorted, "and I did," I said, opening the passenger door and scrambling inside. Gravel and leaf debris dropped off the bottom of my shoes onto the floor of his car making him stiffen in irritation and I smirked with glee.

Sue me – I was irritated too!

Edward's jaw worked the entire way home as he ground his teeth together – he wasn't gonna have any left if he kept grinding them together like he had been this past week. He drove over the speed limit through town and we were home in less time that it took us to drive there earlier. Edward parked the Volvo in the garage. He wouldn't let me walk back to the house on my own so I stood around while he vacuumed the floor of his car with his cordless hand-held vacuum.

I rolled my eyes when he couldn't see me.

"Edward?" I said as we were walking across the yard toward the house.

"Yes?"

"Can we go to the meadow today? There's something that I want to tell you," I told him.

He stopped and turned to face me, his expression panicked.

"What's _wrong_, Bella?" he asked me worriedly.

"Nothing's wrong, Edward, but I do want to tell you some things and I'd like some privacy when I do it. Can we go?"

Edward looked at his wrist watch. I think it was about 11 am.

"Yes but it looks like it might rain, so we'd better go soon. Can you be ready to leave in fifteen minutes?'

"Can you make it twenty?" I wanted to make some sandwiches for lunch and get changed.

"Yes. Let's get going," he said, taking my hand. His mood was improved because we were going to the meadow, a place he loved above all others.

I quickly made some sandwiches of leftover roast beef, Swiss cheese, onion and relish for Edward and ham and tomato with mustard for me. I grabbed a couple of packets of potato crisps from the larder, some bottles of water, a juice and a can of coke for Edward. I boiled the water for a thermos of coffee while I went upstairs to get changed into old jeans and a T-shirt, runners and a rain jacket. Edward was making the coffee for me when I came back downstairs a few minutes later.

I sighed – he knew me so well already!

I put the thermos of coffee into my backpack which held my phone, my camera, a change of socks (in case they got wet) and a sweater which would be warmer than a rain jacket if we were inside at the cabin. I slipped on the sunglasses Alice loaned to me the last time I went to the meadow and we were ready to go. Edward was texting his parents letting them know where we were going and then he wiggled into his own pack and picked up the cooler which held our lunch.

We walked hand-in-hand all the way to the cabin, talking quietly about nothing in particular. I could see the sky clouding over through the tree canopy and the temperature was cooler than it had been at the house. We didn't see any deer this time around, so we made the walk in just under twenty-five minutes stepping onto the covered porch at the cabin just as the heavens opened up, dumping torrents of rain on the meadow.

I shivered as I waited for Edward to unlock the door. It was warmer inside the cabin but the air was stale from being shut up for over a week. We left the front door open and the screen door closed to keep the insects out and opened the windows on the east side of the cabin because the rain was sheeting from the west. Edward lit one of the lamps to brighten the dreary interior and I swapped my rain coat for the sweater I'd brought. I pulled off my shoes, curled up on the sofa and waited for Edward.

I didn't have to wait long. Edward toed his own runners off and sat beside me on the sofa resting his feet on the coffee table in front of us. I cuddled into his arms.

"What do you want to tell me?" he asked quietly.

How do I start?

At the beginning!

"I want to tell you about the accident," I told him quietly, "and my injuries," I said.

Edward tensed and then he relaxed.

"Your injuries don't matter, Bella – not to me."

"Thank you, Edward. I appreciate that, but you deserve to know the details because my injuries are for the rest of my life," I told him.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'm listening."

I took a deep breath.

"Okay, well first of all, you and I have a lot in common."

"Like what?"

"The day of the accident, well the night really … the night my mom and Phil died … it was my fifteenth birthday," I whispered.

"Oh, Bella," he whispered, holding me tightly. He kissed my temple.

"We were driving back from our dinner at an Italian restaurant. My mom wanted to throw me a party but I told her I didn't want one; that I preferred to have dinner out with them. I wasn't much of a social butterfly even then," I told him lightly. "We were a few minutes from home driving through an intersection when a drunk driver sped through a red light and hit the side of our car on the front passenger side," I recounted with a shudder.

Edward rubbed his hand up and down my arm and tightened his hold on me but he didn't say anything.

"The impact pushed our car into a parked truck and I was trapped against the driver's side passenger door behind where Phil was sitting." I gasped a few times and shut my eyes tightly. "I remember there was dead silence for about three seconds – the longest three seconds of my life, I thought at the time – and then the noise began. I could hear our car horn blaring and after a while, the sound of sirens coming closer; witnesses had called 911. I could see the other driver slumped over his steering wheel near where my mother was sitting. The front of his car was inside of ours," I whispered hoarsely.

Tears were running down my face and I didn't try to stop them but Edward blotted them with a handkerchief he took from his pocket. He was such a gentleman I thought and I laughed sharply in paradox to my tears of grief.

"I called out to Mom and Phil but they didn't answer me," I continued. "My mother wasn't dead but she was gone already," I told him. "I knew she wouldn't answer but I had to try. I'm not sure about Phil," I said. "The police and the paramedics arrived with the fire department and they dragged the other car off of ours. The driver was dead," I recounted unemotionally. I didn't have any sympathy whatsoever for the driver who killed my family and changed my life forever.

I crawled onto Edward's lap and cuddled closer to him. I think I would have crawled inside of him if I could have. He encircled me with his strong arms and rested his chin against the top of my head. I laid my bruised cheek against his chest.

"Our car was crushed like a tin can. I couldn't feel my leg but I knew it was bleeding because there was a lot of blood on my jeans," I told him. "The rescue workers covered my mom up so I couldn't see her while they worked on her, but I'd seen enough," I sobbed. "One of the rescue workers was leaning through the smashed windscreen trying to save Phil but it was no use. The other car had caused so much damage," I whispered, "and they couldn't get them out of the car to get them to a hospital."

"You don't have to go on," Edward whispered to me.

"Yes I do."

"It took them three hours to cut us all out of the car. One of the paramedics eventually worked his way into the back seat to look at my leg – well, as much of it as he could see in the mangled wreck with all of the blood," I remembered. "I was getting really faint at this point from loss of blood because my leg had been partly severed below the knee," I told Edward.

"Is that what the scar on the back of your leg is from and why you need physical therapy?" asked Edward. I knew he knew the answer but he was asking for confirmation since I wanted to tell him the story.

"Yes."

"They transfused me in the car. I lost count of the number of pints of blood they pumped into me, and my mom and Phil but it was too late for them – they died before they could get them out of the car, bleeding out from fatal head and chest injuries. My mom died first," I confessed in a whisper. "I heard her die."

"What do you mean, you 'heard her die', Bella?" asked Edward, horrified.

"I could hear them breathing. It was a rasping sound really. They weren't getting enough oxygen no matter what the paramedics tried. Did you know that the lungs make a crackling or gurgling sound when blood and fluid fill up the little air-sacs. The gases in the lungs mix with the fluid causing air bubbles that make a popping sound. I knew she was dead when the rasping gurgles stopped," I told him. "Phil died a little while after Mom."

"Oh my God, Bella. You were conscious through all of that?" His tone was one horror.

"Yes.

"When they got me to the hospital, over three hours had passed since the accident. I had a headache and my collarbone hurt and my leg … my leg was a mess. The hospital had called in a micro-surgeon from Miami when the paramedics confirmed my leg was partially severed and he arrived just after I did. They flew him and his team up on a private jet. I spent twelve hours in surgery having my leg reattached and my collarbone set. What no one knew, was that I'd suffered more than a leg injury and a broken collarbone in the accident. My headache was a symptom of two subdural hematomas on my brain – bruises, if you like. By the time they noticed, I was in a coma and I stayed that way for thirty-three days. When I woke up, I couldn't walk and I couldn't speak. I panicked and my when my doctors got me calmed down, they told me I had brain damage."

Edward's hands tightened around me once more, but he didn't seem as shocked or surprised as I thought he would. I wondered if he'd guessed or if Carlisle had told him.

"I spent the next eight months learning to walk and talk again, and now here I am – an orphan at fifteen. Sometimes, my speech is affected when I'm scared or distressed like I was when I lost the plot in the ladies toilet and during my mugging."

Edward growled.

"That's why I have speech therapy, so that I can practice my sounds and learn how to overcome any problems I might have. I stutter sometimes if I'm nervous or I might say a word oddly. You don't seem all that surprised," I said to Edward after a long moment of silence.

He stiffened and didn't say anything.

"It's okay, Edward," I assured him. "I assume Carlisle told you. I don't blame him, not after what you witnessed that day in Port Angeles and I won't tell anyone," I promised him.

"He only told me the basics, Bella, nothing about how you heard your parent's die. He told me the facts of the accident – what was a matter of public record; and the barest details about your treatment and your recovery, nothing more."

"No, he wouldn't have known about me hearing them die," I whispered. "I've never told anybody else that before," I confessed.

"Jesus, Bella. During all of your therapy following the crash, you never mentioned it once?"

"No. But I think they suspect I remember more about what took place in the car after the crash than I've ever said to any of them. I saw some notes in my medical file your dad has on me."

"How did you see that?" Edward queried with a smirk in his voice. Maybe he thought I was resourceful enough to steal a copy of my file.

"Um, he left it on the bed when he took me to the hospital to have my knee X-Rayed. I had a sticky-beak when he was out of the room getting me some crutches," I owned up, blushing anew because I remembered that Carlisle probably knew what I'd done.

"You nosy-parker!" he joked.

"No I'm not!" I objected, leaning back to glare at him. "It's not being nosy if I'm poking my nose into my own business," I said vehemently.

He laughed and I laughed with him. I felt good now that I'd confessed all to Edward. Whoever said confession was good for the soul was right. But, I felt tired now that I'd gotten all of that off my chest and I wanted to sleep.

"Do you want something to eat?" asked Edward.

I shook my head. "No. Edward, do you think we could take a nap?" I asked him, gazing longingly at the unmade bed at the back of the room.

"Sure, Baby. Let me make up the bed for you while you freshen up," he said lifting me off of him to sit on the sofa. He gently cupped my face and kissed my forehead before he got up to get the bed linens out of the cupboard in the bathroom.

I freshened up in the tiny bathroom taking care of my human needs and washing my face and hands with some warm water. Edward must have turned on the hot water tank when we got here. I assume it ran off the solar power like the TV and music system did. I brushed my hair out using a brush of Edward's I found in the medicine cabinet above the sink and braided it so it wouldn't tangle while I slept.

"Do you want something comfortable to sleep in?" Edward asked me when I came out of the bathroom.

"Like what?" I didn't bring anything suitable.

"I have some boxers and a T-shirt you can wear. They'll be more comfortable than sleeping in tight jeans and your underwear," he reasoned.

I agreed. It also meant that I could cuddle with him that much better. I took the clothes he offered me and went back into the bathroom. His boxers hung down to my knees and his T-shirt hung off my shoulders and covered me to below the hips.

I looked ridiculous!

When I came back out, Edward had shut the cabin door, turned off the lamp and folded back the quilt and sheets on the bed. Plump pillows in crisp white cases were resting against the cast-iron bedhead. Edward was setting the alarm on his phone and he'd also changed into sleep pants and another T-shirt.

I climbed into bed – the side closest to the window and rested against the pillow. I couldn't believe how tired I felt. Confession might be good for the soul but it was also exhausting. I turned on my side, cuddling into Edward who'd climbed in after me and listened to the sound of the rain thundering against the roof. It hadn't stopped raining since we got here and I wondered if it would stop long enough for us to walk home, before I drifted off to sleep.

…

The next sound I heard was the sound of Edwards phone alarm chiming. It was dark in the cabin but I didn't think it was that late in the day. It wasn't, but the rain had set-in for the duration and it had been storming for hours leaving it gloomy and gray outside.

"What time is it?" I asked Edward sleepily. "It's so dark."

"It's 4 pm," he told me.

"We're not gonna be able to get home in this, are we?" I asked him, but I knew the answer.

"No. I think we'll need to stay the night if it doesn't pass in another couple of hours. Are you okay with that?" he asked me worriedly.

"Yes. I'm safe with you Edward. You won't let anything happen to me; I know that."

He smiled broadly and his entire face lit up.

"I'm gonna try to call Mom and Dad and let them know we'll be home in the morning," he said, already skimming through his contacts list for the number.

"No phone service," he said after a moment.

"Will a text message get through?"

"Maybe. Let's try it," he agreed quickly typing a short message.

'B+E rained in at meadow cabin. Home 2morrow morn. E'

"How's that?" he asked showing me the message.

"Short and to the point," I replied. "Send it."

I heard the beep as the phone acknowledged a sent message.

"Well it's sent. Let's hope it gets to them but they know we're here so they won't worry even if they don't get it. They know me well enough to know that I'll stay put, especially with you, during this type of weather."

"Are you hungry?" I asked him, cuddling over his warm chest. He pulled the blankets up over my shoulders to keep me warm.

"No," he told me just as his stomach growled.

"Liar."

"Yes," he laughed, "but it's too comfortable where I am to get out of bed."

"Alright. We'll stay here for a little while longer. But suddenly, I'm ravenous so I think I could eat."

"What did you make us?"

"I made us some sandwiches and I brought some crisps. How about if I toast the sandwiches and we heat up a can of tomato soup I saw in the larder when we were here last time?"

"Sounds good," he agreed.

It was. Edward lit the propane stove for me and I grilled the sandwiches in a non-stick pan with a little oil from the larder. There was no butter or other condiments because the fridge was turned off but Edward turned it on now so the long-life milk carton we opened would stay fresh until tomorrow. I opened the tin of soup and poured the gloopy mass into a pot, mixing it with a little water and some of the milk so it was creamy-tomato – my favorite. We ate at the tiny dining room table, dressed in our clothes again because it was chilly inside the cabin without any heat.

"I might get a room heater installed," Edward said when I shivered.

"What type of heater?"

"Something that doesn't need a flue; maybe one of those gel fires," he mused.

"That would be pretty. Where would you put it?"

"Against the wall here, I suppose. Do you want to see if the TV works?" he suggested.

"Sure," I agreed, getting up from the table to take our dishes to the sink. I'd wash them up later.

Edward turned on the TV but there was nothing but static because of the weather.

"I have some DVD's here. I can put one on?" he offered.

I nodded. "I'll make us some coffee," I said. The thermos was cold and its contents unappetizing. "What movies do you have?"

"Nothing recent. Most of them are movies from the '80s, '90's and earlier this decade," he said with a touch of embarrassment that I would know he liked old movies.

"That's okay. What are they?"

"Hmm. Okay, we have Jaws – da dum; da dum," he sang the sound effects from the movie.

I laughed. "What else?"

"We have Indiana Jones – Raiders of the Lost Ark," he told me and paused for my response.

That_ was_ a pretty good movie. I motioned him to keep listing the movies he had.

"Apollo 13; Star Wars – the first one," he clarified, "The Terminator; The Matrix; Alien and for some god forsaken reason, Twilight," he told me.

"Ooh. Can we watch Twilight please? I'm reading the book at the moment; I bought it on Thursday."

He winced. "I somehow thought you might pick that one. It's a chick-flick," he said scornfully, "with a stupid premise. Vampires don't exist, and a girl who falls in love with a monster that wants to drink her blood is just crazy," he opined.

"It's a romance!" I corrected him. I knew that much from the book I was reading. I was about ten chapters in so far. "And all of those other movies you have are fantasies just like Twilight is, well, except for Apollo 13 – that's based on truth."

"One could argue, so is Jaws," he said. "Wouldn't you rather watch that?" he asked hopefully.

"Ugh, No! I'll have nightmares all night."

"I'll protect you," he snarled menacingly, circling around me like a shark in the water. He nipped at my ear with his teeth and I tried to bat him away.

"Ugh, Edward. No. I hate sharks," I yelped. "Please, Edward," I cajoled. "Can we watch Twilight? Please?" I whined.

"Oh, alright!" he griped, slipping the disc into the machine.

I had time to make the coffees while the FBI warning and a few movie previews played. I found a packet of chocolate coated cookies in the larder cupboard and I carried them over to the sofa with our steaming mugs on a tray. Just as the movie was starting a text message came through from Carlisle.

'Message received. CU 2morrow morning. Dad'

"Well at least we know text is working," said Edward tossing the phone onto the coffee table in front of us.

"Yes, and I'm relieved that your parents know we're safe. I don't want them to worry," I told him, "especially your Mom, after last Thursday."

I really enjoyed the movie. It was a bit corny in places and the acting wasn't always the best but there was something about it that was … enchanting – that's the descriptor I'm looking for – it was enchanting! True love knows no boundaries and all odds are overcome – until book two and the second movie, I guess.

I thought the actor who played the vampire hero in the movie looked a little bit like Edward and I told him so.

"No he doesn't," he scoffed.

"Hmm. I think he does and he's kinda sexy in a brooding, dangerous kinda way."

"You think that actor's sexy?" he scowled.

"Hmm, yes. He looks just like how I imagined the character looks in the book I'm reading."

"But he's playing the part of a vampire!" Edward said, disbelief apparent in his tone.

"Yes he is. A dangerous vampire who struggles every minute of every hour he spends with her, not to kill the love of his life."

"And _you_ think that's sexy?"

"I _think_ the element of danger he represents is sexy, and it's what attracts the girl in the story to him in the first place," I explained.

"He could bite her and kill her at any moment. He could have bitten her at the end of the movie when he was kissing and nibbling at her throat."

I sighed dreamily at the thought of Edward nibbling along my throat. "Hmm, yes he could have, but he didn't."

"But he wanted to," he said.

He was silent for a long moment and then he stared at me with a strange light in his eyes. They were dark in the dim room and his skin glowed under the blue light of the propane lamp he'd lit when we cooked dinner together.

"Do you think _I'm_ sexy?" he asked me.

I smiled. "Yes."

"Do you think _I'm_ dangerous?"

I grinned. "Yes."

"Do _you_ want _me_ to nibble at your throat?"

"Yes!"

"Your wish is my command, Baby," he said, diving across the short space between us on the sofa.

He was careful of my injuries as he scooped me up and stood me on the floor in the circle of his arms. I was laughing – I couldn't help it. He held my body in the classic dance position and bent my body over his arm supporting my spine as my back arched and my necked stretched, exposing my throat to his mouth.

I waited for what felt like forever until his warm breath wafted over the skin of my throat making me shiver in delight. Edward must have been worried about my reaction because he asked me quickly if that was okay.

"Yes," I gasped, closing my eyes. Not that I would have been able to see him anyway, bent over the way I was. The cabin ceiling wasn't so interesting. I kept my eyes shut and let my other senses take over.

I could almost hear him smiling.

He blew gently along the length of my throat and I let myself relax in his embrace – Edward would never let me fall. I felt my nipples tighten under my bra and T-shirt. The breast that _he_ bit was a bit sore and the puckered nipple pulled the skin tight, but I didn't let it distract me from whatever it was Edward was doing – it was far to pleasant.

I could feel the bristles of Edward's beard that shadowed his jaw line, brush ever so gently against the tender skin of my neck making me shiver again and my nipples tighten further.

I think I moaned.

I could almost hear him grinning.

"Do you like that Bella?" he whispered. "Shall I nibble at your skin with my sharp teeth?" he teased.

"Yes!" I gasped, opening my eyes.

"Not yet. Keep your eyes closed," he ordered, "or I'll stop," he threatened.

"Don't stop," I moaned.

"Ssshh," he said and then I heard him inhaling deeply as he ran his nose slowly, achingly slow, up the length of my throat from my collarbone to my jaw, stopping briefly over the thumping pulse in my neck to savor my scent, where my skin was warmest so close to the thrumming blood.

"Edward," I moaned. I felt a tingling in my nether regions that I'd only ever felt once before, also with Edward, and the sensation was far more intense than it was then.

"Patience, my love," he crooned. "Soon."

He blew on my skin again and then at last I felt what I'd been waiting for, for what felt like forever. I felt his soft lips pressing against my throat, always moving, never stopping in one place. I felt the tip of his tongue as it flicked against my skin and then retreated, teasing me.

Goosebumps erupted all over my skin.

"Ohhh GOD," I moaned in delight.

I felt Edward smiling against my throat and then he embarked on a mission to kiss and taste EVERY. SINGLE. INCH. of my throat until I was a boneless puddle in his arms. My nether regions were raging and I didn't know what it wanted. I tried squeezing my legs together but that didn't work because I couldn't get any traction on the floor, lying as I was in Edward's arms. I simply ended up wiggling in his embrace – a delicious pastime to be sure but, _not_ what I wanted or needed right now!

"The bed," I gasped out to him. "Take me to bed," I commanded him huskily.

Edward was swinging me up into his arms before I'd even finished uttering my demand. I found his mouth with the undamaged side of mine and kissed him, sucking his top lip between mine. He groaned and his knees buckled as we came to the side of the bed. We fell across it with Edward on top of me, his knees either side of mine, supporting his weight with his hands.

"Kiss me," I said to him pulling his head down to mine. We kissed as passionately as we could with half of my bottom lip out of action but it was enough – for now. My hands were roaming over Edward's back and I could feel the heat of his body burning through his T-shirt. I wanted to be closer to that heat and my hands found their way to his waist so I could pull the cloth up and let my hands stray below. The skin of his back was smooth and silky soft, and burning hot like a volcano.

"Ungh," he moaned as he shuddered in response to my touch.

I could feel moisture pooling between my legs and the tingling sensation became insatiable. I tried squeezing my legs together again, scissoring them … and there … that's what it wants. Friction!

"Ahh," I heard myself moan.

Edward rolled us over so that I was lying over his body between his bent and parted knees. His hands smoothed down my back to rest over my backside and he ground my hips gently against his own. I felt the bulge of his arousal though his jeans against my own, but I wasn't scared.

I was nervous, because I'd never done this before, but I wasn't afraid. I wanted more. I bent my head to kiss him again and I brought my hands to the hem of his shirt pushing it up over his chest.

"Lift up your arms," I ordered, and he complied so I could pull the shirt from his body.

I threw it to the side without seeing or caring where it landed, enthralled as I was with the sight of his chest. His shoulders were broad and strongly muscled but he wasn't brawny. They tapered down to his chest where sculpted pectoral muscles were partly hidden beneath a dusting of bronze hair. His nipples, tightly puckered and standing at attention poked out from between the silky strands. His waist was narrow and his stomach washboard firm with an arrow of the bronze hair that disappeared beneath his jeans.

He was beautiful.

"You're beautiful," I whispered to him.

"So are you," he replied and I blushed. I wasn't; not really. "Can I see you?" he whispered, holding onto the bottom of my shirt.

I nodded and he pulled the shirt up and gently over my head leaving me clad only in a white stretchy cotton bra with a decorative lace cover on the outside. I shivered because the air in the room was cool. Edward was gazing at me with something akin to awe and he made me feel beautiful when I knew that I wasn't; not when I compared myself to someone like Alice or Rosalie.

"I'm not beautiful," I said to him apologetically.

"YES. YOU. ARE!" he retorted with a hint of anger evident in his tone.

I frowned.

"You are so very beautiful to me, Bella, in every way that counts," he said insistently. "You're beautiful inside and out. Beauty, like Rosalie's for instance and Lauren's, is so often, only skin deep. But yours, your beauty goes right to your soul," he told me.

"But I'm not gorgeous like Rosalie is," I couldn't help but say. I sounded like I was whining.

Edward cupped his hands around my face and his eyes and mouth softened. "I could look at your face forever," he told me softly and I almost believed him but then I was distracted when his mouth touched mine again and he coaxed me into another kiss.

Our hands roamed over each others bared torsos. Wherever his fingers stroked, heat zapped along my nerve endings, cris-crossing my skin until I felt like I was on fire from it. I sat up over Edward's waist so I could explore him more thoroughly; sliding my hands over his shoulders, skimming through his silky chest hair to the button hard nipples nestled within.

"Ungh," he groaned again and he raised his hips up reactively as I stroked the tips of my pointer fingers over each of his nipples, first lightly and then with more pressure as I gauged that his reaction was positive.

"Ungh," he groaned again and again.

His hands tightened on my hips and he ground me down against the bulge in his jeans. The friction against my lady parts was delicious and did much to assuage my own arousal while at the same time, increasing it exponentially. Instinctively, I leaned forward over Edward's chest and I placed the tip of my tongue against one of his turgid nipples. His eyes flew open and he yelled out, and nearly arched off the bed, his reaction was so heated. I grinned happily and pressed the flat of my tongue against him, stroking over his entire nipple including the pink aureola until he was a quivering mass of sensation beneath me.

Edward's hands left my hips to roam up my sides and along my spine until he was cupping the sides of my breasts through the bra. His thumbs stroked my nipples gently through the lace and cotton, and I moaned as they hardened again.

"Beautiful," he whispered reverently. "So beautiful."

I bent my head to kiss his parted mouth and Edward rolled us over again so I was on the bottom against the quilts where it was warmer. This time my legs parted allowing his hips to nestle against mine and Edward moved against me sinuously increasing the friction that I so desperately craved. His mouth left mine to kiss and lick a string of fire down my throat and across the mounds of my exposed breasts. He flicked a thumb over one of my distended nipples evincing another moan of desire from my lips.

"Ahh, Ungh, Edward," I moaned, tossing my head.

"Ssshh," he soothed me and he massaged my left breast with his palm through the fabric of the bra but it wasn't enough. I wanted contact with the skin of his hand. I was trying to wiggle my hands under my back so I could unclasp my bra when he switched his attention to my other breast, flicking the nipple and applying the same massaging pressure to the mound.

"Agghhh," I yelled and Edward immediately stopped what he was doing and sat back on his calves so he was kneeling between my legs.

"What's _wrong_?" he yelped. "Did I hurt you? God! I'm so sorry, Bella!"

"No! Edward! You didn't hurt me, not really," I moaned and tears of frustration leaked from my eyes.

"Then why are you crying!" he asked shrilly.

"Because you stopped!" I told him.

"Well of course I did, Bella. You YELLED!" he yelled.

"Not because of what you did, Edward, but because of what _he _did and it hurt for bit, that's all."

"Shit! That's where the FUCKER bit you, isn't it?" he snarled. I winced at his language.

He gulped and his lips tightened into a straight white line, while his fists clenched in fury. I glanced down at his hips and his mood was gone … and so was mine, unfortunately.

I sighed and sat up still with Edward kneeling between my legs.

"Can I see?" he whispered pleadingly.

I hesitated, not because I didn't want him to see my breasts, because obviously I did, as I demonstrated clearly only moments ago when I tried to remove my bra; but because I didn't want Edward's anger at what he would see, to overwhelm what was an amazing first experience for me.

"On one condition, Edward!" I said firmly.

"What is it?"

"I want you to promise me that this won't change how you'll … touch me and look at me in the future." I said.

He stared at me with a puzzled expression.

I sighed. I wasn't sure what I was asking of him either.

I tried to explain. "I want you to be able to touch me now, to touch his bite on my breast, to trace it and look at it and not think about it in the future. When you look at me and touch me again after today, I want you to see _me_ and not what _he_ did. Can you do that?" I asked him.

I had my doubts, but he swallowed nervously and nodded.

"Can you unclasp my bra?" I whispered to him as I held my hands over my breasts.

He nodded and reached behind me to do as I asked. I held my forearm over my breasts under the loosened bra as he pulled one strap down my arm. I let my arm slide free and then covered my breasts with it as I lowered the other to release it from the other strap, until I knelt before him cupping my breasts with my palms.

I swallowed and felt myself pale if that was even possible considering how pale I already was, but suddenly I was nervous about what Edward would think and say.

"Can I see?" he asked me again when he noticed my hesitation.

I looked down at the bed as I lowered my hands and then suddenly I looked up, staring him right in the eyes without shame as my hands fell away. Edward looked back into mine and then he lowered his gaze to look upon my breasts.

I know what he would see. He would see two pale B sized plump breasts topped with pale pink nipples and aureoles about the size of a quarter. Because I was only fifteen, they were firm and perky and I hoped they stayed that way for a good long while. He would also see one breast unblemished excepting a few freckles, and the other … the other one was marked with black bruises in the outline of a large human bite that circled the center of my breast. Carlisle had placed four stitches in it where _his_ teeth had sliced through my flesh.

"I'm gonna see that FUCKING BASTARD rot in prison, if it's the last thing I do!" he vowed with a murderously quiet tone.

I felt exactly the same way.

…

A/N: Review and let me know what you think. I'll never be able to write really explicit sex scenes like some authors do – I was too embarrassed writing what I did, and I did say in an earlier A/N that the sex in this story wouldn't be overly explicit. Did I get it right?

A human bite is a ghastly sight. I'm not going to put a photo of one on my blog (in fact, there are no photos this week) but if you want to see what one looks like you can Google: 'human bite mark on breast' and click on images. There is a bite mark on a human forearm on the second row of pictures which is how I imagine Bella's bite looks.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer is the author and owner of the Twilight Saga. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

…

A/N: I suffered from a bit of writer's block this week, so it might be reflected in this chapter - but I hope it isn't.

...

Chapter 15 – Someone is Watching You

It was amazing to me that we had arrived at the first of July and the year was officially half over. The ten days following our rainy sojourn at the meadow cabin were thankfully absent of any further drama or disasters in the Cullen household. I was especially pleased, as I was the star at the center of all of them in the two weeks before.

My wrenched thumbed finally healed as did Edward's nose and the bruise on my cheek slowly faded from purple to green to a mottled brown. My skinned knees sported matching pink scars but my cut lip took the longest to heal – I kept opening up the wound with my teeth until Carlisle got fed-up with me and threatened to stitch it shut if I didn't leave it alone.

My skin might be a shrine to the temple of clumsiness but I was still vain enough that I didn't want stitch scars on my lip!

The estimate from Billy Black came in under budget which was positively providential because he told me the furnace was ancient and would need to be replaced. I added an estimate for a new HVAC system to my list of expenses and Billy brought in his work crew and made a start on the house. Alice and I chose kitchen cabinet doors, new linoleum flooring and carpet and she rallied the rest of the Cullen kids to finish cleaning and preparing the inside of the house. All surfaces where repaired and ready for paint and wallpaper which Alice had ordered from Seattle and I stunned them all with my knowledge and ability to repair sash windows, saving me a fortune in labor.

My personal effects finally arrived from Jacksonville crammed into twelve large boxes. I was thrilled to finally get all of my books and the rest of my clothes because I'd gained two pounds in the last two weeks and my jeans were getting a little snug. Carlisle weighed me this morning and Rosalie much to her disgust, marking my weight gain and her loss on our respective charts. Rosalie had shed the two pounds that I gained. She grinned and Carlisle scowled.

Chief Uley informed us yesterday when Edward made his thrice weekly visit to the station, that Laurent Boucher was still on the run. The Olympic Peninsula police had downgraded their search – they had other crimes to investigate and easier criminals to catch, probably because they were stupider – the crooks not the cops. Edward was furious, but the chief sympathized and told us his hands were tied; he had his orders and until Boucher turned up or struck again, there was nothing more he could do.

Daisy McAllister's replacement had started work and I noticed her walking back to her desk from the tiny station kitchen carrying a mug of coffee. She was rather nondescript I thought; the type of person that didn't usually attract attention. I probably wouldn't have noticed her either except for the wireless headphone crowning her head and the fact that she waved to me in greeting.

I heard Edward's car in the driveway and I pushed my breakfast plate aside as I jumped up from the table. He'd only been gone an hour but I was eager to see him. He only went into town to get gas and have the Volvo washed and detailed, but I felt anxious when I was away from him and I'm pretty sure he felt the same way about me.

Edward was driving me to Port Angeles today so I could meet with my social worker, Kate Walker. We'd talked on the phone a few times but still hadn't managed to meet since my aborted appointment the day I lost the plot in the ladies toilet. I also wanted to stop by VRC and inquire about seeing a grief counselor. I hoped that Edward would agree to see one as well. I don't think a behavioral psychologist was the right step for either of us – we weren't crazy, and it hadn't worked for Edward in the past anyway.

I launched myself at Edward as he came through the door to the kitchen, winding my legs around his waist and kissing him on the mouth.

"Hello, Baby," he said as he came up for air. "Did you miss me?" he asked rhetorically, laughing with delight.

It was clear that I had.

"Hi," I said. "Yes, I did miss you," I told him, pouting prettily.

Edward walked with me clinging to him like a vine over to the kitchen island setting my backside down so that he was standing between my legs.

"I missed you too, Baby," he crooned and he bent his head to nibble at my mouth.

He tasted of mint toothpaste and coffee and Edward. I loved his taste, possibly even more than I did his smell. Edward stroked his tongue over my bottom lip seeking entry to my mouth. I teased him for a moment by refusing so he'd persist with the delicious stroking I loved. He knew what I was doing and he growled low in his throat, and then clapped his hand over my backside until I gasped and opened my mouth.

I giggled into his mouth but was soon caught up in the kiss, returning it stroke for stroke until I felt faint from lack of oxygen because I forgot to breathe through my nose. We eventually parted with a pop of our lips and I gazed lingeringly at Edward whose eyes smoldered at me, alight with green fire.

"Tease," he reprimanded softly, playing with my hair.

"Impatient," I retorted wiping the corners of my mouth.

"Yes," he admitted without shame.

"Me too," I confessed with a grin that he returned with a small shake of his head.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," I confirmed and started to slide off the counter. Edward held me around the waist and swung me down; probably afraid I'd fall off of it and break a bone. "I need to get my bag and my jacket and then we can leave," I said towing him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the third floor.

I grabbed the denim jacket that matched the jeans I wore, slipping it on and picked up my shoulder bag from the armchair by the window. I walked across the hallway and into Edward's bedroom where he was rifling through his closet looking for a jacket to wear. I noticed the leather jacket I'd repaired was still on the dress form where I'd left it for him nearly three weeks ago.

_'Stubborn!'_

"What about that one?" I said pointing at the leather jacket.

He blushed and shrugged self-consciously. "Ahm, it doesn't really go with what I'm wearing," he excused. Rather lamely I thought with a raised brow of disbelief. He was wearing black jeans, runners and a black T-shirt – the leather jacket would have been perfect.

_'Stubborn!'_

He hurriedly pulled his own matching denim jacket from a hanger and swung it on, patting down his jeans pockets checking for his wallet and keys. His cheeks were tinged with red as he grasped my elbow and led me from the room. I simply rolled my eyes where he couldn't see.

The drive to Port Angeles was fast and uneventful. Edward slipped a CD into the car's player that I assumed was either classical music or contemporary alternative. I was startled when the opening bars of Neil Diamond's 'Solitary Man' sounded from the speakers making me laugh.

He remembered!

Edward grinned and turned up the volume. I sang along with the CD for just about fifty miles. I really couldn't carry a tune, but I didn't worry about it (much) and Edward didn't seem to mind my lack of vocal prowess even though he winced a few times.

Edward turned into the car park of the Olympic Bagel Company at the corner of First and Francis streets just before 11 am and slid into the last vacant parking bay at the popular cafe and coffee house. Kate, my social worker said this was the best place in all of Washington for bagels, cakes and coffee so here we are about to have our first meeting since I arrived in Forks a month ago.

The fragrant aroma of yeasty bagels, cinnamon, and nutmeg, orange and chocolate and freshly brewed coffee teased at my nose as we walked through the glass front doors.

The scent was mouthwatering.

I saw Kate sitting at a table for four by the windows and she waved me over.

"There she is," I said to Edward nodding toward Kate.

Edward smiled one of his dazzling smiles and led me over to her. We had already discussed whether he would stay or go and I told him that I was happy for him to stay as long as Kate didn't mind. I made the introductions as soon as we reached the table.

"Hi, Kate."

"Hello, Bella," she said, standing up to give me a friendly hug. She looked over at Edward standing closely beside me, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

"Um, Kate? This is my boyfriend, Edward Cullen," I introduced. "Edward, this is Kate Walker, my social worker."

"Ms. Walker, it's a pleasure to meet you at last," said Edward pleasantly in a velvet toned voice. "Bella speaks highly of you," he bullshitted. I looked at him with slightly widened eyes of surprise. I'd barely mentioned her to him other than to tell him about my appointments.

I think Kate must have thought the same thing because she bit her lower lip and looked at the floor trying not to laugh out loud.

"Kate, is it alright if Edward stays for our meeting? He's … protective of me," I explained.

"That's fine with me, Bella as long as you're okay with it?" she said.

"Oh, sure, it's fine. I want him to stay," I confirmed. Edward pulled out a chair for me opposite Kate and he sat to my left with his back to the wall, between us, where he could see the room and everyone in it.

We chatted for a few minutes and perused the menu placing our orders with the waitress when she came over. I ordered the lemon-lemon cake and Edward ordered the pineapple-pecan upside down cake. Kate ordered the cranberry-walnut cake and we asked for mugs of coffee all around.

"So, Bella, how are you settling in now that you've been back in Forks for a month?"

"I'm good. Everything's good," I said, giving her my stock-standard answer. Edward scowled and cocked an eyebrow. Kate looked from one to the other of us questioningly.

"Um, well, I'm good now, but I've had my moments," I told her with a small grimace.

"Like what?" she asked.

The waitress arrived with our coffee and cake, so I delayed answering for a moment to assure us some semblance of privacy in the crowded restaurant. Thank goodness all of the other patrons had gossip to share with their own companions so none of them were paying any attention to us – except for a group of teenage girls at a far table that hadn't stopped staring at Edward since we walked in fifteen minutes ago. I shot them the evil eye but it didn't stop them. Edward put his hand on mine in a reassuring gesture.

"You were about to say, Bella," Kate prompted when we were alone again.

"Do you want me start at the beginning or the end?" I joked.

Kate raised a brow as if to say, "It's that bad is it?" She sipped at her steaming coffee and forked off a slice of her cake waiting for me to begin.

"Ahem, well apart from the normal flock of injuries I usually sustain standing still, like stubbed toes, cuts and bruises," I said and Kate raised her other brow, "Um, I sprained my knee and wrenched my thumb, and I was mugged in Forks two weeks ago," I told her, crossing my fingers at the tiny white lie.

It was sort of a mugging, right?

"Oh, and I kinda had a breakdown in the ladies toilet at my lawyers office," I followed up. I might as well confess all of it up front and get it over with.

Kate dropped her fork from nerveless fingers. It clattered onto her plate and sent cake crumbs flying.

"Are you kidding me, Bella?" she asked, genuinely stunned.

I shrugged apologetically. "Unfortunately, no," I told her.

Edward grimaced and scowled angrily whenever my 'mugging' was mentioned which is what I'd taken to calling it.

"Okay, skip the knee and the thumb but I want the details about the 'mugging' and the 'breakdown," she air-quoted, taking a notepad and pen from her bag.

"Um, okay, well I was in town two weeks ago and …" I relayed the details of both events to her and she took down notes, for my file I assumed. She listened quietly asking only the occasional question until I'd told her everything.

"So this Boucher character is still out there?" she asked for clarification.

"Yes," growled Edward, drawing Kate's attention.

"Are you taking precautions, Bella to protect yourself?" she asked me.

"Yes, I am," answered Edward firmly.

Kate smiled.

"Like what?" she asked him, ignoring me now.

"Bella now has a phone that works," he told her. I picked up my fork to eat my cake – I was completely superfluous to the conversation. "And I can track her phone with GPS. Bella is not allowed to leave the house without me, one of my brothers or my dad and I'm going to teach her to drive so she doesn't have to take the bus," he said with a victorious smirk in my direction.

Edward had cajoled and pleaded and whined for seven days until I eventually gave in and agreed to take my driver instruction test. I passed the knowledge test without any problems thanks to Edward's tutoring and I was now the owner of a brand new learners permit.

"That's good, Edward. What about self-defense classes?" Kate asked him and I almost choked.

Athletic activities are not good pastimes for me because I tend to fall down a lot. Edward rubbed my back between my shoulder blades until I'd stopped spluttering and coughing.

"Ahm, I'd probably hurt the instructor," I interjected. "I don't think self-defense classes are a good idea for me."

"They are an excellent idea," they refuted, ganging up on me.

I frowned.

"There's a good instructor in Port Angeles," said Kate to Edward, ignoring me again. "I'll give you his details. He's ex-police and he teaches self-defense tactics to women designed to get them out of aggressive situations."

Edward nodded and took the card that Kate handed to him from her purse. I sipped at my coffee and pushed the rest of my cake away, my appetite suddenly non-existent.

I did not want to take self-defense lessons!

"Will you be getting a car when you get your license, Bella?" Kate asked me.

"Yes. I have my mom's car. It's being shipped to Seattle from Florida so Edward and I can go get it," I told her. I'd thought about flying down to Florida with Edward to pick it up but Carlisle and Esme refused permission. I don't blame them – it's a five day drive across half of the country.

Kate asked me about my emancipation application and I got really quiet. I wasn't sure how I felt about it now. I'd been thinking a lot about what living in my house _on my own_ might mean. I wasn't afraid to live on my own, though considering what happened, you'd think I would be, but that wasn't what I was worrying about. I'd gotten used to spending most of my time with Edward and I would miss that. I'd also grown to love the Cullen's and they treated me as part of their family. I was afraid of losing that if I wasn't living with them.

"Bella?" she prompted.

"Um, yeah sure. I mean … I'm not sure anymore."

"What's wrong? Have you changed your mind?" asked Edward, almost eagerly.

"Um, before I met the Cullen's," I addressed Kate, "I wanted my independence and I wanted to live in Charlie's house – my house, but now … I just don't know," I confessed as I shredded a paper napkin nervously.

"Are you afraid?" asked Kate.

"No. That's not it. It should be, but it's not," I answered truthfully.

"Is it Edward?" she asked and he looked shocked.

"Yes," I whispered. "I … I like being around him," I said.

Edward smiled.

Kate frowned.

"Bella, I know that you're in love and that's wonderful," she said but I could hear a 'but' coming and so could Edward because he tensed beside me. "_But_, I want you to think carefully about your decisions."

Edward scowled.

Kate ignored him.

"Things can change in the blink of an eye, Bella," warned Kate, looking between the two of us. "You should know that better than anyone. Gaining your independence doesn't mean you have to leave the Cullen's if you want to remain with them and they want you to stay. It simply gives you options and a certain level of security."

I understood what she was implying. If things didn't work out between us, I wouldn't be stuck living in the same house with Edward for months or even years until I turned eighteen. I didn't see that happening, but I nodded, appeasing her and terrifying Edward.

We finished up soon after, making another appointment to see each other in a month and Kate extracted a promise from me to call her if anything else should happen. Edward was subdued which was unusual for him and he went to pay the bill.

"I don't think he's very happy with me," said Kate with a smile and a nod in his direction.

"No. But he'll be okay, once I talk to him," I assured her.

I turned around to look at Edward's tall lithe figure as he stood with his back to me at the counter. One of the girls who'd been staring at him for the past hour – a tall California blond type wearing too much makeup and a fake orange tan – stood up from her table and sashayed over to him. She lifted her talon-like, red tipped fingers and stroked his bare arm below his rolled up jacket sleeve. My lips parted company. Why that little …

Edward pulled away with a shudder of revulsion. He politely but firmly rebuffed her and pointed me out as his girlfriend. She sneered at me and tried again but this time Edward bent down and whispered something in her ear. By the look on her face it wasn't very complimentary. She stalked back to her friends rejected. I smirked and shook Kate's hand victoriously.

"He's a handsome one, Bella," she complimented with a touch of envy in her voice. "Are you using protection?" she asked me out of nowhere.

"What?" I gasped. "Where not, um … you know, were not … active like that," I qualified.

"That's good, but you need to be prepared, Bella. You're a young woman and you'll be sixteen in ten weeks. Don't leave something like birth control to the last minute or treat it as an afterthought. Neither of you want to find yourself being parents before you're ready."

I sighed and nodded. She was right. I need to find myself a gynecologist. Carlisle had already pulled Edward aside for a father/son lecture on sexual activity, responsible behavior and a reminder that I was still only fifteen until September thirteenth. Carlisle didn't mention our sometimes sleeping together in Edward's bed, but he'd alluded to it cryptically while lecturing Edward and he questioned us suspiciously after we spent the night at the cabin.

I told Edward we needed to cool it out of respect for his parents. Edward sulked but reluctantly agreed, as long as he could cuddle with me in his bed on Sundays. I thought that meant _after_ we woke up on Sunday morning, but Edward's interpretation was more liberal. He meant from 12.01 on Sunday morning until 11.59 on Sunday night. He made sure we got up late and retired early.

…

Edward was quiet on the drive to VRC and I wondered what was bothering him. I thought it might have something to do with what Kate said about things changing and keeping my options open.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not going anywhere," I assured him softly.

"What?" he asked me, puzzled.

"If things change between us and we're no longer together – it won't be because I don't want to be with you," I told him.

The car swerved forcing Edward to correct hurriedly. I'd shocked him. He grasped my hand and squeezed it firmly, looking at me with an expression of relief, though he tried to hide it. Sometimes I had to pinch myself to believe that Edward loved me as much as he did. I didn't understand it. What did I have to offer him?

"I'm not going anywhere either," he told me before he confessed, "but I must admit, the idea of your emancipation being granted and you living alone is not an attractive concept to me."

I figured that. He'd miss me as much as I'd miss him and he wouldn't be able to protect me like he wanted if I was living in town while he was with his parents. I don't think I needed to be guarded constantly but it made Edward happy so I went along with it – for now, while Boucher was still on the loose – but once he was in custody, I expected to reassert some of my independence whether Edward liked it or not.

"Let's just take things one step at a time," I suggested to him and then I joked, "Given my track record in the last month, the judge might decide I'm too hazardous to my own health and require adult supervision."

Edward chuckled but he relaxed a lot and a thoughtful expression crossed his face. The idea that the judge might decline my petition was appealing to him. I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind about how he might make that happen.

I picked up some brochures about the grief counseling program at VRC and asked about the availability of appointments for me and Edward. His hand tightened around mine when I mentioned his name to Mrs. Nightmare but he didn't refute it so I knew he was considering going. We'd talked about it the night at the cabin after our aborted love-making session once Edward calmed down enough to concentrate on something other than what Boucher did to me.

He told me that his previous therapy with Aro had just made him feel worse about what happened to Robert and his feelings of guilt grew with each session. I wondered what Carlisle was thinking, sending Edward to see a psychiatrist instead of a counselor and I said as much to Edward. He told me that he'd had a breakdown similar to mine but his dissociative state lasted longer and it freaked out his parents.

He didn't volunteer any more information and I didn't push him. I thought I'd pushed enough with his birthday party and the photos and his parents had pushed with the piano. It was time to step back, regroup and let Edward get comfortable but I thought the counseling was important and I was willing to give him one more push in the right direction before I withdrew.

Mrs. Nightmare said they had two appointments available next week on Wednesday at 2.30. One with Aro Volturi and one with Carmen Sanchez. Edward tensed at the mention of Aro's name and I felt his panic through our clasped hands. I didn't want to see Aro either and I squeezed his fingers in reassurance.

"We'll take the 2.30 appointment with Carmen Sanchez thank you," I said firmly.

"Name?" Mrs. Nightmare asked.

"Bella Swan and Edward Cullen," I told her baldly.

"Which one of you wants the appointment with Doctor Sanchez?"

"We both do," I told her.

"She's only got one free hour," huffed Mrs. Nightmare as though she thought I was learning impaired.

"Yes. I understand that, Mrs. Knightmere," I said remembering at the last minute to address her correctly. I wouldn't do myself any favors by getting her name wrong to her face. "We'd like a joint session," I told her.

"That's not the usual procedure," she retorted, about to refuse my request.

"Yes, I know that, Mrs. Knightmere, but we're asking you to make an exception. We'd like to make a joint counseling session with Doctor Sanchez. It's important that we stay together while we work through our bereavement issues," I told her, and tried to appear sadder than I really felt at that moment. I nudged Edward and he dutifully pasted a gloomy expression over his face.

She peered at us with distrust and I thought I might have to pull out the, 'Let's ask Aro' card to get her to agree when she said, "Well … let me call Doctor Sanchez. If she says it's okay, I'll make the appointment. Wait here," she ordered and lumbered over to a desk, easing her substantial girth into a tiny chair that creaked and groaned under her weight.

I chewed on my thumb nail nervously as we waited for her to come back.

"That was good thinking, Bella, about the joint session. Are you really okay with that?" Edward asked uncertainly.

He looked relieved that he wouldn't be forced into one-on-one sessions and I really believed he might talk more with me in the room. Esme told me that Edward had opened up more to me in one month than he had in the six years previously and she thanked me profusely for giving them Edward back. I blush in embarrassment and told her that Edward's piano playing had nothing to do with me – that it was all him, but she told me not to be so modest – Edward had changed and it was a change for the better.

"Yes," I answered him. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't. Are you okay with it? I mean, it's not like I even asked you if you wanted to attend joint counseling."

"Yes. It's fine," he assured me, stroking his thumb over my hand. "Someone told me recently, that I just needed a little push in the right direction to get me going," he reminded me, referring to what we'd talked about after his birthday when he played the piano his parents gave him.

Edward had spent a lot of time in the music room playing the piano since his birthday, and I happily spent most of my time with him listening to him play. Sometimes I sat with him at the piano bench and other times I sat in a comfy wing chair and read a book – I'd finished reading the 'Twilight' novel I'd bought and Edward gave me a copy of the second book in the series. Other times, I lounged on the sofa or even dozed languidly, listening to the gentle melodies Edward's talented fingers produced.

Mrs. Nightmare came back interrupting my reverie.

"Doctor Sanchez said she'll take you both for the first appointment. She won't agree to future joint appointments until after she's spoken to both of you."

We nodded at her and I took the appointment card she held out.

"Two-thirty next Wednesday. Don't be late," she ordered and we left before she could change her mind.

…

"What will we do to celebrate the fourth of July?" Carlisle asked us all over dinner that night.

"Aren't you working Dad?" asked Emmett, who seemed surprised.

"Not this year. I've got the day off."

"Why don't we have a picnic at Stormers Field?" suggested Jasper. "We can play baseball after lunch."

"That's a great idea," seconded Alice. "The weather forecast for Sunday is fine and sunny with evening showers."

"Where's Stormers Field?" I asked. I didn't remember it from my time in Forks as a kid.

"It's actually up in the mountains," Edward told me. "It's part of the national park and it's open to the public. Not many people visit because it's too far out of the way and you need a 4-wheel drive to get there."

"A picnic and family baseball sounds like a great idea," agreed Esme. "Oh, but Rosalie, didn't you and Emmett have other plans for the fourth? It won't be the same without both of you there."

"It got canceled," said Rosalie. "The organizers forgot to get a permit to have an event on the beach," she said sarcastically.

"Yeah," agreed Emmett. "So we're here and we're in. Jasper and I will organize the baseball equipment and the shirts."

"I'll check out Emmett's jeep and Carlisle's commander," volunteered Rosalie. "We're gonna need two 4 wheel drive vehicles."

"I'll cook," I said.

Emmett cheered.

"Alice and I will help," Esme offered.

Emmett's face fell.

"Edward, can you dig the picnic table and some fold-out chairs out of the garden shed?" asked Carlisle.

"They haven't been used since last summer, they'll probably need cleaning," Edward scowled.

I smiled. Most people would just brush them off and hose them down and be done with it. I could already imagine Edward with a bottle of hospital grade disinfectant and a scrubbing brush on a long pole.

"I'll bring the first aid kit," said Carlisle, with a pointed look at me when he said it.

"Hey, no fair," I whined. "I can't be the only one who ever gets injured?"

None of them said anything but their expressions spoke for them all.

I sighed.

…

The fourth dawned bright and clear as promised. Esme, Alice and I spent yesterday cooking and we'd had a ball, no pun intended. I taught them both how to fry chicken and grill lamb cutlets and make potato and Greek salads – classic picnic food that was easy to transport. Esme made a gallon jug of iced-tea and Alice and I made brownies for dessert.

I stretched and cuddled against Edward in his bed. It was Sunday morning which meant I'd spent the night in his arms since one minute past midnight. I noticed the time on the clock said 6 am so I rolled over intending to sleep for a couple more hours as we weren't leaving for the field until ten. Edward was snoring softly, sprawled on his back in the middle of the large bed. I was grateful it was king-sized otherwise I would have been on the floor.

The night we spent at the cabin he'd taken up most of the smaller double bed squishing me up against the wall under the window. I'd had to climb over him during the night so I could go to the bathroom and when I came back he was lying diagonally across the bed in a spread-eagle. I didn't relish sleeping on the tiny sofa so I climbed onto his side of the bed and cuddled against him with one of my legs resting between his. When I woke the next morning I was back on my side of the bed with no recollection of how I'd gotten there.

I thumped my pillow and tried to get comfortable but I was wide awake and I knew I wouldn't be going back to sleep. I got up as quietly as possible so I wouldn't wake Edward and took care of my needs in the bathroom before sneaking downstairs for a cup of coffee. Edward was normally a light sleeper waking often except when I was sleeping with him – then he slept like the dead – happy and contented.

I sometimes heard him roaming his room in the middle of the night when I made him sleep without me and once or twice I'd woken as he crawled into my bed at three in the morning. It's not that Edward couldn't sleep without me; he just over-thought things sometimes resulting in self-induced insomnia.

I was the only one up when I got downstairs – the house quiet and peaceful with only the birds chirping in the garden providing background music. I switched the coffee pot on to begin perking and heard the dull thud of the Sunday paper hitting the front door. I brightened happily as I went to get it – I'd actually get to read the paper before the rest of the family split it into unrecognizable sections. I saw the back of the delivery boy's bright yellow moped-scooter chugging down the long driveway as I bent over to pick up the paper.

I paused and straightened slowly in confusion.

There was a small pile of cigarette butts in the planter by the front door. None of the Cullen's smoked and they definitely weren't there yesterday when I swept off the porch so who did they belong to? I swallowed nervously and looked around hoping to see someone familiar that would explain it. But who of the people who knew the Cullen's would be crass enough to smoke on the Cullen's front porch and discard their butts in a planter?

I could think of nobody.

A breeze blew up through the garden wafting the smell of smoke up my nose and making me shiver nervously. It wasn't the stale smell of old cigarette smoke like the odor left in Charlie's house – this was recent – as recent as less than an hour ago or maybe sooner.

Somebody had been here!

I gulped, suddenly afraid that it was Boucher. He'd been a smoker – I'd smelled it on him. I inhaled a few calming breaths and looked over the porch and the surrounding area carefully. There were damp but fading boot prints along the floor boards in front of the windows and on the steps. I was careful not to touch the porch railing or to obscure the boot prints with my own footprints.

The startled flight of screeching birds from the trees at the foot of the garden that moments ago were chirping happily, scared the life out of me and literally jump-started my heart into overdrive. I peered into the trees but I couldn't see anything clearly because my eyes wouldn't focus that far into the distance. I thought I saw the shrubs rustling and something or somebody stealthily moving.

I _really_ had to stop putting off getting those glasses!

My heart was beating faster than I could count the beats and I didn't know whether to run inside and get Edward or pick the butts out of the planter in case the intruder came back to get them. I was fairly certain there was somebody here right now that shouldn't be and they weren't on a friendly visit.

Before I could think more about it, I stripped the plastic wrapper off the newspaper and scooped the collection of butts onto the plastic with a twig I pulled off the ficus tree in the planter. I wrapped them up tightly, casting one last, long look around before I went back inside locking the door securely behind me.

I rushed into the kitchen less eager to read the newspaper than I was a few minutes ago. I shrieked and skidded to halt just inside the kitchen when a tall looming figure stepped out of the walk-in pantry. I held my hand to my breast and willed myself not to have a heart attack!

_'Geezus, Bella! It's just Carlisle. Calm down for goodness sake.'_

"Did I scare you, Bella? I didn't mean to. I heard the paper delivery and I thought I'd get up to read it over coffee before the masses descended," he explained. "I see you had the same idea," he said with a friendly grin, indicating the paper clutched in my hand.

"Oh, yes, the paper. Um, Carlisle, I'm glad you're up because I found something out of the ordinary," I gasped out in a rush. I was glad it was Carlisle and not Edward who would fly into full-on panic mode in less than three seconds.

"What is it Bella?" he asked me with concern as he led me over to the table.

"I think somebody is outside the house," I told him. "I found these in the planter by the front door," I said showing him the wrapped cigarette butts.

Carlisle picked up the wrapped bundle and looked closely at them.

"Did you see anybody?"

"No, not really but something frightened the birds in the woods at the foot of the front garden and I thought I saw something moving but I couldn't really see all that well."

"I'm not surprised, Bella. It's still early and the woods are sixty feet away from the front porch."

I nodded, relieved that my distance vision wasn't as bad as I thought.

"There are wet boot prints on the front porch but they're drying quickly. I didn't touch anything other than the newspaper and a twig off the ficus when I scooped up the butts," I assured him.

"Why didn't you leave them?" he asked quizzically. "I'm sure that Chief Uley would have wanted to see them undisturbed."

"I thought of that, but I was being paranoid. If somebody was out there watching me, they might have sneaked back to get them after I went back inside."

Carlisle nodded. He said he might have done the same thing before he picked up the cordless house phone to call the chief of police. I paced worriedly while he talked to the chief, chewing on my thumb nail apprehensively. One good thing about Carlisle's threat to stitch my split lip was I'd stopped chewing on my lip nervously. Now I chewed on my thumb nails instead. I didn't know which habit was worse.

Jasper came into the kitchen yawning and scratching his chest through his white sleep T-shirt. He was surprised to see anybody up this early on a Sunday and he looked quizzically between Carlisle and me as I paced from one end of the room to the other.

"The chief will be here with a forensics kit shortly," Carlisle said as he hung up the phone. "He said not to go outside and not to touch the evidence."

I nodded and breathed shallowly feeling slightly faint. I wanted to be strong like I usually was but the emotion was elusive.

"What's going on?" asked Jasper quietly.

Carlisle explained briefly as he pushed me into a kitchen chair and instructed me to place my head between my knees and breathe deeply.

"Jasper, please go upstairs and wake Esme for me and then go and get Edward. Don't wake the others yet. It's going to be a zoo as it is with Edward awake and the police crawling all over the place."

Jasper left with a quick nod to Carlisle.

"I'm sorry I'm such a bother to your family," I whispered to Carlisle as I sat up straighter. The fainting feeling had passed but now I felt like crying. I wondered if they'd want me around with the amount of trouble I'd brought to them.

Carlisle sat down next to me and held my hands comfortingly.

"None of this is your fault, Bella, and we don't know for sure whether this is related to your assault or somebody else in the family."

"It does seem likely though doesn't it?" I said uneasily.

Carlisle didn't say anything and that was proof enough that he thought as I did.

Esme hurried into the kitchen in her pajamas and robe. "What's happening?" she asked as Carlisle handed her a cup of coffee. "Jasper didn't say much – just that we'd had a possible intruder on the property and you needed me downstairs," she panted worriedly.

"Bella! Bella! BELLA!" yelled Edward frantically before Carlisle could answer. He thundered down the stairs – I could hear his bare feet slapping against the treads. Jasper hurried behind him at a less frenetic pace.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to Edward's parents.

"It's not your fault. It's just the way Edward is," said Carlisle. "He's … intense."

"Yes, he loves you, Bella, and he worries about you," agreed Esme taking a seat at the table. "I've never seen anything like it and I thought Carlisle and I were besotted when we were your age. He's like the moon to your planet. If you move, he moves," she said with a sense of amazement.

"BELLA! Where are you?" Edward yelled again.

Carlisle poked his head into the hallway and said quietly, "We're in the kitchen, Edward. Please keep your voice down. There's no need to wake the entire house. Bella's fine."

Edward shouldered passed his father knocking him into the door frame, an expression of panic in his eyes as he barreled his way into the kitchen. He was pulling me out of my seat and into his arms as soon as he laid eyes on me, barely allowing me room to breathe.

"Can't breathe," I squeaked out.

"Sorry," he whispered hysterically as he relaxed his hold. "What happened?" he demanded. "Jasper said something about an intruder and Bella. I came as fast as I could," he panted.

"Yes, we can see that," said Carlisle curtly, rubbing his shoulder.

Edward's hair was sticking out all over his head. He was dressed in loose sleep pants and a T-shirt, and he had a day's beard growth covering his jaw.

"Bella was collecting the newspaper from the front porch and she found a pile of cigarette butts in the ficus plant by the door," explained Carlisle quickly. "She may have seen somebody lurking in the woods at the foot of the front garden but she's not sure. I called the police," he summarized just as Chief Uley's police car pulled up at the back of the house.

He very kindly left the sirens and flashing lights off so as not to announce his presence to the entire neighborhood. I watched as he and Deputy Meyer alighted from the car and opened the trunk to remove two large plastic cases. Carlisle opened the back door for them as they stepped onto the porch.

"It's that fucking Boucher!" I heard Edward mutter as he sat down at the table and pulled me onto his lap so he could hold me.

"Thank you for coming out so early, Chief Uley," greeted Carlisle as they entered the house.

"It's no problem, Doctor Cullen. You remember, Deputy Meyer?"

"Yes, and it's Carlisle."

"Can I get you some coffee," offered Esme, always the agreeable hostess even at 6.45 on Sunday morning.

"That would be great, Mrs. Cullen, thanks. Do you want one Stephie?"

"Thank you. Coffee would be very welcome."

"Please call me Esme," she said as she went to get the coffee.

Edward was getting antsy while the adults talked through the niceties and I rubbed his forearm wrapped around me in an effort to calm him. I dreaded the days and weeks to come as Edward supervised my every activity. He'd calmed down a bit since the mugging but this would fire him up again.

I sighed.

"I didn't hear you get up," Edward whispered in my ear.

"You were sleeping," I whispered back.

"You should have woken me!" he hissed quietly.

I sighed again.

"Okay. So tell me what you observed, Bella." said Chief Uley taking a steaming mug from Esme. He stirred in cream and sugar as I recounted what happened when I collected the paper.

"Where are the butts now?" he asked.

"Here," said Carlisle handing the wrapped bundle to the chief.

He studied them briefly before putting them into a plastic evidence bag held by Deputy Meyer. She sealed it and tagged it with the contents, where it was found and the date.

"Did you inspect the footprints you observed?" he asked.

"Yes, some of them but I didn't walk over them and I didn't touch the railing either. I did touch the front door handle but I don't think I disturbed anything else except for the twig I broke off the ficus," I told him.

"Is that what you used to scoop the butts onto the plastic?"

"Yes."

"Where is the twig?"

"I dropped it back into the planter," I told him.

"Were you barefoot or were you wearing shoes when you went to get the paper, Bella?"

"Barefoot. I was dressed as I am now," I confirmed for him. I was dressed in three-quarter length sleep pants and a poly-cotton tank-top. I suddenly remembered I was bra-less and I crossed my arms over my chest, blushing madly.

"Why does that make a difference?" asked Edward.

"It mightn't," answered the Chief, "I'm just covering all of the bases, and we'll need to rule out Bella's footprints on the porch," he explained. "What's your shoe size, Bella?"

"Seven and half," I told him.

He made a few more notes and stood up from the table.

"Alright folks, Stephie and I are gonna go out to the porch and dust for prints. The front of the house is going to be messy, Esme but the dust will come off with dish-washing soap and water. You should vacuum first. When we've finished there, we're gonna walk down to the woods where Bella said she saw movement. You'll need to come with us, Bella, to show us where you think it was. I'll call you when we're ready."

"Okay," I agreed. I knew Edward would be coming with me.

"Do you want to walk through the house, Chief to get to the front porch?" asked Carlisle.

"No we'll take the same route the intruder did," he replied as he and Deputy Meyer hefted their large cases and exited the house through the back door.

Edward reared to his feet abruptly and plopped me back onto the seat so that he could pace like a caged animal around the kitchen. An uncomfortable silence reigned while we all watched Edward tugging at his hair, grinding his teeth and clenching his hands. He paused occasionally as if to say something but changed his mind each time and recommenced his pacing.

Watching him was exhausting.

I stood up to make breakfast.

"Where are you going?" shrieked Edward.

"Over to the fridge and the stove," I replied calmly.

One of us needed to remain calm and it wasn't gonna be Edward. My initial anxiety had passed as I was questioned by Chief Uley but Edward's was still simmering. He was so passionate about the people and things he loved, that his anxiety all but consumed him. If I was exhausted watching him I wondered how he felt expressing the emotion.

"How can you cook at a time like this?" he asked in disbelief.

"Easy," I told him. "I'm hungry."

I pulled bacon, Italian sausages, eggs, tomatoes, potatoes, mushrooms, onions and bread from the fridge and commenced making a Sunday fry-up breakfast.

"Edward, come and help me," I said in an effort to distract him. He usually did help me when I cooked mainly because we spent almost every moment together. He was getting pretty good at it as well. He still argued with me about the best way to prepare and cook the food but I learned quickly to let him do it his own way unless he was about to slice off a finger.

"Why didn't you wake me when you got up?" asked Edward again as he peeled the potatoes.

"You were sleeping so peacefully, Edward and I was only coming downstairs for a coffee and to read the paper. I'm safe in the house," I told him.

"You should be safe!" he said curtly, ripping more flesh off the potatoes in his agitation than he did skins. "But clearly, you're not safe alone anywhere, Bella, not even in the house. I don't want you to come downstairs in the morning again without me!"

"What? Edward, that's ridiculous!" I retorted as I whipped up two dozen eggs into a golden froth. I added some half-and-half and some salt and pepper, and then set the bowl aside so I could face Edward.

"No it's not!" he retorted tearing into another potato. I took it off him as well as the vegetable peeler.

"Edward," I said softly as I held his hands to stop his mindless fidgeting. "Edward, you _cannot_ watch me 24/7. It's not practical. You have your own friends and interests and I have mine. I sleep in a different bedroom," I tried to reason with him. I worried that he wasn't spending enough time with his brothers and his own friends and the same concern applied to me.

What was the old adage? Familiarity breeds contempt!

"My friends don't matter and my only interests are you, drawing and the piano. I can do both of those things with you and you're sleeping with me from now on!" he countered curtly, pulling his hands from mine to pick up another potato and attack it.

"No, I'm not, Edward! We talked about that. This is your parent's house. I'm fifteen and you're seventeen. We cannot sleep together in the same bed in their house!"

He glared at me with his jaw set. Neither of us mentioned our Sunday arrangement.

"What about my friends and interests, Edward? Don't they matter to you?" I asked him quietly.

"Yes, of course they do, Bella! If you want to spend time at your house or take photos then I'll go with you and all of your friends live here anyway so there's no problem," he finished smugly.

"That's not the point," I huffed, stripping rind off the bacon.

"You're right, Bella," he said, evidently changing tactics. "The point is, I couldn't bear it if something else happened to you," he whispered wretchedly.

"I know," I sighed. "I don't want anything else to happen to me either," I told him as I hugged him. "What if the police never find Boucher? What if the intruder is nothing to do with him? A lifetime of 24/7 is a very long time, Edward."

"It's not so long," he said kissing my mouth. "It's barely equivalent to the blink of an eye in comparison to the age of the universe," he told me.

"What is it with galactic references this morning?" I said with a light laugh.

"What?"

"Your mother compared us to a planet and a moon. She said when I move, you move," I told him.

Edward latched onto the analogy like a leech on a bush walker's neck.

"See! Even my mom thinks we're a 24/7 couple. That settles it," he declared victoriously. "We have parental approval!"

"That's not what she meant ..." I began to refute, but trailed off as Deputy Meyer came through the outside kitchen door.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Bella, but we're ready for you to show us where you saw movement in the woods."

"Oh, okay. I'll just grab some shoes," I told her.

"We'll meet you around the front in a few minutes, Deputy," said Edward firmly.

"We're not finished with this conversation," I told Edward as he towed me from the kitchen.

"Yes we are," he retorted as he opened the front hall coat closet and pulled out his flip-flops and mine.

"What's going on?" asked Emmett as he and Rosalie came down the stairs, sleep ruffled and yawning.

"We've had an intruder on the property. The police are here," he told them. "Don't go onto the front porch," he ordered as he led me outside through the kitchen and over to where the Chief and the Deputy were standing with Carlisle and Esme.

"There you are, Bella. The string line attached to this stake is a direct sight line from the front door. Can you stand here and point out to us where you thought you saw movement in the woods?"

I moved toward the rough hewn wooden stake to stand in the place he indicated.

"NO!" yelled three voices.

"Geez! What?" I gasped, spinning around.

"Bella, move away from the stake!" ordered Edward as he reached out a hand to yank me back.

The chief looked at them all perplexedly.

"She's very clumsy," explained Edward.

"She'll probably trip on the string and break something," added Esme apologetically.

"I'll have to pluck splinters out of her tooshie," Carlisle joked ruefully.

"Ha ha. Very funny!" I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest in irritation.

The chief and the deputy laughed.

"She's that bad is she?" said the chief.

"You have no idea," confirmed Edward dryly.

I huffed.

"Okay, Bella, just stand to the side of the string and point," tried the chief again.

I did as he asked without any injuries!

"How far inside the trees do you think the intruder was?"

"Not far if I could see movement from the porch. The woods and the shrubs are fairly dense a few feet past the tree line. I don't think I would have seen anything in there."

"Okay. We'll search the trees for evidence."

"Chief, breakfast will be ready in about forty-five minutes if you'd both like to join us," I invited. "We're cooking a fry-up," I added as incentive.

"Excellent!" he said rubbing his hands together. "Don't tell my wife – she's got me on a low cholesterol diet," he confessed.

"That I gave to her," added Carlisle, smirking.

We all laughed as we left the police to finish their investigation and walked back to the house. Alice was up when we reached the kitchen and the three of them – Rosalie, Alice and Emmett, immediately bombarded us with questions. Jasper had discreetly vacated the room while Edward and I argued and hadn't come back yet.

Carlisle explained to the others while Edward and I finished preparing breakfast and I set a fresh pot of coffee to brewing. Esme extended the kitchen table and Alice and Rosalie helped her to set it for ten adding two of the chairs from the dining room. Jasper came back freshly showered and the chief and the deputy walked in from the yard just as I was taking some blueberry muffins from the oven.

"Well," said Chief Uley as we all sat down to breakfast, "this is quite a spread. Do you eat like this all of the time?" he asked, impressed.

"No," grumbled Emmett snagging a king-sized muffin in each of his enormous hands.

"What did you find in the trees, Chief?" asked Carlisle as he poured him a cup of coffee.

"We found evidence that somebody spent quite a bit of time out there if the cigarette butts and the trampled undergrowth are any indication."

"What could they possibly hope to observe in the dark?" said Esme, asking the question we were all wondering about.

"I don't know," replied the chief, "but someone is watching you."

…

A/N: Who do _you_ think it is? Review and tell me your theories.

HVAC = Heating, Ventilation & Air Conditioning

Half-and-Half = Is a dairy product; a mixture of cream and milk

Flip-flops = thongs


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer is the author and owner of the Twilight Saga. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

…

Beta'd by: Marshmellow007

…

A/N: I want to thank everyone who has added OUaSN to alerts, communities and favorites. I especially want to thank all of you who have reviewed. Some of you have private messaging turned off or you've reviewed anonymously so I can't reply to you personally – so thanks for reviewing.

I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long, but real life has been getting in the way (more about that at the end of the chapter) and the writers block hung around longer than I would have liked. It seems to have cleared now, thank God!

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Chapter 16 – Second Base (Edward's POV)

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck!

What the _fuck_ was I gonna do about this latest development?

I sat beside Bella in the backseat of Dad's Jeep Commander 4-wheel drive and pinched the bridge of my nose to relieve the pressure of the stress headache pounding at my temples. We were on our way to Stormers Field for our fourth of July picnic and baseball game, which Bella had insisted that we attend as planned.

I vetoed the idea in favor of staying home where Bella was safe but the family voted against me. All I want to do is ensure Bella's safety because let's face it, she's shit at it – and she won't let me! Bella declared that we shouldn't change our plans for the holiday just because we'd had an _intruder_ on the property and the family sided with her.

Fucking traitors! Who have they known longer?

An intruder is how Bella described the prick who'd spent enough time around the house last night and early this morning to smoke an entire packet of cigarettes and sully our pristine gardens with his disgusting, chemical laden cancer sticks. He was lurking there for hours.

Fucking hours! Fuck it!

Intruder is a pansy-ass description for what the prick really is – a stinking stalker – if I get my hands on the motherfucking asshole who thinks he can spy on my girlfriend and sneak around on our property … Agh! A lance of pain shot through my temple as a consequence of my mental raving. I inwardly sighed. My blood pressure was probably high enough to launch the space shuttle.

Dad, Mom and the Chief discussed additional security measures in the short-term to prevent any further trespassing and hopefully create an opportunity to catch the fucker red-handed if he was stupid enough to come back. The chief ordered regular police patrols to pass by the house several times per day and over-night and he recommended Harry Clearwater's security firm for on-site protection of the house and property if we were still concerned. Dad called Harry immediately and he promised to send over two guards within the hour. Dad also decreed that the driveway gates had to remain shut at all times and we were commanded to take our electronic gate openers with us when we went out.

I sighed and massaged my temples.

I finally have a special girl in my life and she has every whacko on the Olympic Peninsula hunting her. She'd fucking traipse all over Forks and Port Angeles if left to her own devices going hither and yon without a care in the world and zero concern for all the sickos out there who want to get close to her.

What is it about Bella that men find attractive and girls love to hate?

She was like a flame and guys were the bugs attracted to her light, fluttering around and trying to get close to her.

I wanted to squash them all into fucking extinction!

Another stabbing pain prodded my temples. Agh! Shit! I wonder if Dad's got any Motrin in the glove box?

Before I could ask him, Dad tossed me a plastic strip of pills and told me to take two with water and another two in an hour if there was no improvement in my headache – he must have noticed me wincing and rubbing at my temples in the rear-view mirror.

Bella was talking quietly with Mom while Dad drove and I silently raved myself into a nervous breakdown but they interrupted their conversation to inquire after my wellbeing.

"Edward, what's wrong?" asked Bella softly.

I turned my head to smile at her but moving my facial muscles made my head hurt. I think I ended up grimacing at her instead.

"I'm fine, Baby, I just have a headache. The Motrin will take care of it," I told her.

"Do you want to lie back, Edward," asked Mom. "It might help to dispel it sooner if you can sleep on the drive to the national park."

"The seat won't recline any further, Mom, because of the gear in the cargo area. I'll be okay," I told her as I swallowed the painkillers Dad gave me with a sip of water from my bottle.

"It will be a while before the ride gets bumpy, Edward," added Dad. "Try to sleep if you can."

"Edward, move to the center seat so I can give you a scalp massage," Bella offered invitingly as she pushed the center theater tray into its closed and locked position to make room for me.

I must admit I was intrigued by the idea of a scalp massage from Bella and not just for the pain relief it would offer. Having her hands on me in any manner was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Let me pull over first," cautioned Dad as he flicked the car's indicator lights on and pulled over to the side of the road. I saw Emmett's jeep pull in behind us. He hopped out and jogged over to find out why we stopped.

"Anything wrong, Dad?" I heard Emmett ask.

"Edward has a bad headache, so he's moving seats for the drive so he can recline," Dad explained. "We'll be on our way in a moment," he said as I moved to the center seat and re-buckled my harness.

"Okay. You alright, Bro?"

"Yeah, Emm. I will be," I confirmed as I slouched in my seat and reclined against Bella who had turned a little sideways in her own seat so she could reach my head with her hands.

"Hey, Emmett," Bella said with a wave.

I felt Bella's fingers sink into my hair stroking the longer strands away from my forehead. Her fingers locked into an arched position so she could apply rolling pressure to my sensitive scalp with her fingertips.

I groaned. The sensation was heavenly and caused delicious shivers of bliss to ripple all over my skin and along my spine. I even felt a tingle in my dick, which wasn't really appropriate given my mom was sitting in the front seat two feet from where I was reclining.

Emmett guffawed. "Way to go little Bro!" he said as he tapped the roof of the car in a rapid staccato on the way back to his own vehicle. Trust him to notice!

"Are we ready to go?" asked Dad as he climbed behind the wheel.

"Yes," I heard Bella say softly.

Her fingers continued their firm but gentle rubbing of my head from the base of my neck, around my ears, over my crown and down to my temples. I snuggled against her soft breasts and felt myself drifting into that somnolent state between wakefulness and sleep. I ceased my internal raving, which wasn't making a bit of difference in resolving our predicament anyway, and listened with half an ear to the conversation in the car. Bella kept up her ministrations the entire time.

What a girl!

"Do you really think it's Boucher, Carlisle?" I heard Mom say.

"He seems the most likely culprit," he replied after a moment.

"Why would he come back here though?" asked Bella softly. "He must know the Olympic Peninsula police are looking for him. Why take the chance that he'll be caught?"

"Sociopaths don't behave in the way normal people do, Bella. They're manipulative, callous, lacking in remorse and are unable to love," Dad explained. "They see people as targets and opportunities to dominate, humiliate and victimize."

I could feel myself getting tense as Dad instructed on the sociopathic profile. Bella felt my tension and deepened the intensity of her massage, forcing me to relax even though I wanted to fight against it. Dad continued his explanation to a rapt audience and I was interested despite myself.

"They often surround themselves with accomplices who share some of the same behaviors – like James Cameron – but those people often end up as victims to the sociopath's contempt. They often express criminal or entrepreneurial versatility and change their image as needed to avoid apprehension and prosecution. Sociopaths also tend towards promiscuous sexual behavior and abuse as you experienced firsthand, Bella," Dad said.

I stiffened again and ground my teeth involuntarily. I wanted to wake up and participate in the conversation but Bella wouldn't let me. She moved her magic digits to my jaw, soothing away my agitation with gentle strokes.

"I'm still not convinced that it was Boucher," I heard Bella say.

"What makes you think that, Bella?" asked Mom.

"Well, don't sociopath's often exhibit extreme narcissism and grandiosity?"

"Yes, they do," confirmed Dad. "How do you know that?"

"I Googled it," she told him with an embarrassed giggle. Dad and Mom chuckled and a hint of a smile pulled at my own lips. Oh, what would we all do without Google?

"And aren't sociopath's also prone to secretiveness and paranoia, with an expectation of deserved authority and respect?"

"Yes. What's your point, Bella?" asked Dad curiously.

"Well wouldn't Boucher – if it _is_ him – wait more than two weeks to launch a plan of attack? He'd want it to be epic, wouldn't he and he'd want us to think he'd crawled away – lull us into a false sense of security? He'd want his attack to be something that would lead the police and us on a merry chase while he stood back laughing, pulling our strings like his puppets until he was good and ready to reel us in. I mean, if he's avoided apprehension and prosecution all of these years, he must design his ambushes with success and fame as his ultimate goal."

"That's extremely insightful, Bella. You're right. Sociopaths seek celebrity. They want people to talk about them with reverence even if the people talking don't know the person they're talking about. It feeds their need for fame and notoriety – they have more victims that way. Have you thought about studying psychology, Bella?" asked Dad after a brief pause.

"Yeah, maybe, but I want to be a writer," Bella responded shyly.

"There is nothing stopping you from doing both," encouraged Mom before saying, "Well, if you don't think it's Boucher, then who do _you_ think it is, Bella?"

"Well, it could be someone who has a grudge against one of the Cullen's," she said. "Someone you know but would never suspect," she suggested evasively.

I knew she was thinking about my verbal skirmish with Jacob Black at her house the day Billy visited to give her an estimate. She was thinking of the evidence I bragged about having and Jacob's nervousness that I might use it. I was extremely relieved she hadn't mentioned his name or mine. I wasn't ready to explain _that_ to my parents.

"Who would have a grudge against one of us?" Carlisle asked. "Esme and I are well respected in Forks and Port Angeles, and the kids are well liked and popular with their peers. I can't think of anyone who would want to stalk us."

"I don't know who it might be but insecure or autocratic people often hold grudges about offenses that most other people would simply brush away as unimportant or just a difference of opinion."

Mom and Dad didn't say anything, but I could almost hear them nodding their heads as they deliberated in silence.

"Who else might it be?" asked Mom.

"It could be an associate of Boucher or even of Cameron'," offered Dad. "A watcher, so to speak, planted to keep an eye on us and report back on our activities."

"Buy why watch us at night?" asked Mom frustratedly. "I don't understand what they thought they would see!"

"That's the point," said Bella excitedly. "They – whoever _they_ are – don't know us well enough to be confident of our habits. So they have to watch us at all hours of the day and night until they can predict what we'll do."

I could tell by the excited pitch of her voice, that Bella felt she was onto something. She was almost profiling the fucker who was doing this and what she'd theorized so far was much more intriguing and possible that what the chief had come up with, which was absolutely fucking nothing! He'd said he didn't want to speculate until the evidence was analyzed by forensics in Seattle. Wimp!

I was so fucking proud of Bella. She is amazing.

"That makes sense," agreed Dad in response to Bella's theory.

"You're a doctor, Carlisle, so it's probable that you'll come and go at all times, but I bet whoever it is doing this, they want to know what your regular hours are – when your hospital shifts start and end; when you leave home and when you come home. You're pretty much on the same shift cycle aren't you?" asked Bella musingly.

"Yes," he said. "I work Mondays during the day; I have Tuesdays off or I work the night-shift; I work afternoons on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and nights on Fridays and Saturdays. I alternate Sundays with one of the other doctors on a two week rotation and I get every third Saturday off."

"And, Esme, don't you usually work away from home on Mondays as well as Wednesday to Fridays, with Tuesdays spent at home?" Bella queried.

"Yes," Mom confirmed nervously.

"Okay. So we've already established a pattern of behavior that can be charted. Consequently, certain movements can be predicted," Bella pointed out.

Fuck it! I'm waking up. My headache is gone and this conversation is too damned interesting to sleep through. I want to contribute my own percolating hypotheses because I think Bella's onto something. I gave myself a mental shaking and forced my eyes open.

"Which means," I added sleepily as I sat up, "that we should be varying our patterns of behavior so we confuse the watcher. We need to be unpredictable in order to thwart them."

"Edward, you're awake!" said Mom with surprise.

"Yeah. I wasn't fully asleep – I was just halfway and I've been listening to the conversation."

"So you agree with Bella's theory?" asked Dad.

"Yeah," I said rubbing at my eyes. "I think she's really onto something," I praised as I pulled her into my arms to snuggle at my side.

"So do I," sighed Dad with resignation.

"So what do we do?" asked Mom anxiously.

"We vary our routines as much as possible," I said. "Dad you need to vary your hospital shifts from week to week and, Mom, you need to make your days at home seem spontaneous rather than regular. Also, you should leave and come home at different times each day as much as possible. Bella and I need to do the same with our sessions at VRC. We always go on Wednesdays and we spend the day in Port Angeles – that's going to be noticed soon if it hasn't been already."

"I'll talk to Aro about giving you both appointments on random days for the foreseeable future," said Dad, "and I'll speak to the hospital administrator about my shifts tomorrow. Esme can you vary your work activities? Perhaps you can ask your clients to come to the house sometimes instead of going to Port Angeles every day?"

"Yes, I can do that. Our house is a fantastic showcase for my design and decorating portfolio so working from home will work for me."

"I'm also going to speak to Harry Clearwater about having a security system installed in the house and surrounding gardens," said Dad. "The garage is wired, but we never worried about the house. That is an oversight I want corrected as soon as possible. I might even have some cameras installed."

"Is that really necessary, Carlisle?" Mom objected. She always wanted us to have the freedom to come and go as we pleased without having to worry about alarm codes. Safety and freedom were some of the reasons why we moved to Forks from Chicago in the first place – Forks was supposedly safer!

"Yes, I think so, Esme," replied Dad. "I know we live in a small town and crime statistics on the Olympic Peninsula are low but if someone is hanging around the property uninvited then I want to deter them. The safety of our kids is paramount," stated Dad fiercely.

Mom nodded her head in acquiescence but I could see she wasn't happy about it. Our home should be a sanctuary not locked down like Fort Knox!

…

We arrived at Stormers Field at around noon. The steep five mile winding road through the dense forest had recently been graded so the ride wasn't as rough and tumble as it could have been. When we burst into the graveled car park it was completely empty of vehicles. I swear we were the only ones who ever came here. The park rangers should change its name to Cullen Domain. Emmett's jeep pulled in beside us and we all piled out of the cars.

The air was fresh and crisp with no trace of the pollution that even in a small town like Forks, sometimes permeated the environment. I wandered away from the cars and inhaled deeply, communing with the sounds and scents of nature – the gentle breeze rustling grass and leaves was soothing to my ears as was the bird song from high in the trees. There are wildflowers here but they aren't as abundant as they are in my meadow. Nevertheless, the field was a beautiful attraction for the humans who visited and a sanctuary for the wildlife that called the field and its surroundings their own.

Only the meadow compared to this field in its ability to totally relax me and despite my earlier objections, I was unexpectedly glad to be here. I wanted to take Bella on a walk while we were here – there was a tree I wanted to show her and more pointedly, it was the view from the tree that I think she'd rhapsodize over.

"Bella, did you bring your camera?" I called out to her where she was standing chatting with an excited Alice and a bored looking Rosalie.

She strolled over to stand beside me. I pulled her back against my chest and wrapped my arms around her waist inhaling the floral scent of her hair as we looked out across the field.

"Yes. Jasper told me there's some great scenery that is appreciated by nature walkers, artists and photographers alike. Did you bring your sketch pad?" she asked me.

"No, I forgot. It doesn't matter though; I've sketched here before. I'd rather be your tour guide today and let you take your photos."

"Hey, Bro, Bella, come help us unpack," Emmett bellowed from the vehicles.

I led Bella back to the vehicles, which we unloaded quickly and then we split off into couples after agreeing to be back by two o'clock for lunch. Dad bade us all to take bottles of water with us and to keep to the paths. He and Mom were staying behind to guard our picnic site and to relax on the grass. He was ogling Mom's long, tanned legs clad in mid-thigh denim shorts with interest – the horny old bastard!

Bella stuffed her camera, a hat and her sunglasses into a backpack and I grabbed two bottles of water, a miniature first aid kit (I didn't trust her not to hurt herself!) and my own sunglasses. I threw it all in my own backpack, which I slung over my shoulder, clasped Bella's hand firmly in mine and we were off.

"Is your head really all better?" Bella asked me with concern.

"Yes, Baby, your massage was awesome. Where'd you learn to do that?"

"From Mom. She was a bit 'new age' in her outlook and always doing some course or joining a class. She was big into yoga, pilates and reflexology. She learned about massage when Phil was still playing baseball so she could give him physical therapy on his arm and shoulder. She taught me how to give a scalp, neck and shoulder massage. She was pretty good at it as well – Phil certainly appreciated the attention if the moans and groans I heard coming from their bedroom was any indication," she told me with a wink and a laugh.

I smirked. She implied that her parents were probably having sex following the massage. I could understand that – Bella's scalp massage certainly had a similar affect on me – it was very sensual once the pain of my headache was relieved. I wonder if I could talk her into a full body massage one day? Hmm.

"How old were you when you realized they were probably having sex?"

"About thirteen," she confessed with a blush. "I used to clear out of the house whenever I could after that."

"Yeah, it's weird to know your parents are having sex. I mean, it's one thing to know they have sex but you don't want to know _when_ they're having sex."

"I understand _exactly_ what you mean," she agreed with feeling. "Where are we going?" she finally asked as we strolled along the nature trail.

"To a tree," I told her cryptically.

"A tree?" she said looking around at the thousands of trees surrounding us.

"Yes. It's a special tree."

"Okaaay."

"We're nearly there. You're gonna love it – trust me."

"Oh, I do – you just like keeping me in the dark," she retorted referring to our first visit to the meadow, which I also kept secret.

"Nah. I just like to surprise you."

We came upon a ridge a few minutes later and I led her to my 'thinking' tree as I'd nicknamed it many years ago. I liked to climb into this particular tree and rest amongst its thick branches while gazing at the stunning terrain outspread below me. I led Bella to within a few yards of the edge and stopped so she could look upon the scenery with wide-eyed awe.

"Oh, it's magnificent," she breathed.

She's the one who is magnificent I thought as her long hair flew out like mahogany streamers behind her. The high winds and unpredictable weather in this area of the park was legendary and afforded the area its name. I slid my arms around her waist to palm her stomach – I didn't entirely trust her not to blow over the side of the cliff if a gust blew up while she was standing so close to the edge.

"What is this valley?"

"This is Hurricane Ridge."

"It's beautiful."

"Yes. It's a very popular tourist attraction at all times of the year. There's skiing and snowboarding in the winter and nature walking during the summer. Most tourists come to the ridge and not to the field where we're picnicking."

"I need my camera!" she said reaching behind to yank off her backpack.

I helped her out of it and removed the camera, handing it to her. She removed the cap from the telephoto lens and began shooting pictures. I followed closely behind her with one hand held out, ready to yank her back if she encountered danger – she wasn't really watching where she was going, engrossed as she was in capturing the scenery for posterity.

She took photographs of the valley that rose and dipped below us. The foreground landscape was sparsely covered with tall trees standing like lone soldiers interspersed with patches of waving wildflowers. It was post-card perfect in its imagery. In the background, the glacier capped Olympic Mountains rose majestically with Mount Olympus – the tallest peak – overseeing the splendor at its feet with regal superiority.

We walked for awhile so Bella could take more photos of the different landscapes and wonders the ridge had to offer and I eased her down a steep rocky path to a lake that shimmered like a black diamond under the deep blue sky and shining sun. Bella handed me her camera so she could trail her fingers through the water lapping at the shoreline.

"Ugh! The water's freezing," she shrieked and then laughed as she shook the icy droplets off her fingers in my direction splattering my face.

I laughed with her. "I could have told you that. The lake is fed by melting snow and glacial ice. The water temperature is only a fraction above freezing temperature even during the summer."

She huffed and placed her fists on her hips in a mock pose of irritation. "Well why didn't you then?"

"Would it have made any difference if I had?" I countered knowing it wouldn't have.

"No," she responded honestly.

"Are you ready to walk back up to the ridge? I want to show you a tree I like to climb and then we should head back to the field before Dad sends out a search party."

"Okay. Let's go," she acquiesced as she took my hand to lead me away.

"Where are you going?" I asked her teasingly as I obediently followed.

"Back to the field!"

"You're going the wrong way," I told her, forcing her to change direction.

"Oh! Well, I have many talents, Edward, but directional dexterity isn't one of them," she reminded me.

"I know!" I growled remembering how she got lost walking 450 yards through the center of Forks.

It took us twice as long to walk back to the ridge because Bella kept stopping to snap more photographs. Sometimes it was scenery but other times it was a giant fallen tree, a bird, a flower or an insect that captured her interest.

"Are we gonna climb your tree?" she asked me as we arrived back at our starting point.

"Not today, and, Bella – _you_ will _never_ climb this tree or _any_ other tree if I have anything to say about it!" I told her curtly.

"What!" she objected. "I love climbing trees. I used to climb them all the time when I was a kid," she pouted at me.

"Hmm. How many times did you fall out of the trees and hurt yourself?" I demanded.

She scowled at me and refused to answer my sarcastically voiced question. That in itself was answer enough. She probably fell out more often than not and I'd bet my new piano she broke at least one limb and received a concussion, not necessarily at the same time!

"C'mon," I said, "let's sit against the base of the 'thinking' tree for a few minutes and rest before we head back.

"The thinking tree?"

"Yeah. That's what I call it. I come here sometimes when we visit the field. I sit in the low branches of the tree and I think or sketch … or write in my journal," I told her with embarrassment.

"You write as well?" she asked with surprise.

Writing – something else we had in common except I don't think my scribblings are worth reading and I don't want to be a writer.

"Sometimes – mainly ramblings about what's happening in my day-to-day life. I started writing in a journal after Robert died – Mom thought it might be therapeutic. It started out as a dry, literal accounting of daily events, evolving into diary entries and then essays when I had more to say and my spelling improved," I admitted.

"How many journals do you have?" she asked me curiously.

"About ten."

"I've never kept a journal," she said. "I wonder if I should?" she mused out loud.

"You should," I encouraged her. "It _is _therapeutic like Mom said it would be and it's also equal parts interesting and mortifying to read the stuff you wrote years earlier."

"Tell me something mortifying," she said with a grin and a nudge of her elbow against my ribs.

"I knew you'd ask me that!" I said, tickling her ribs in return. She giggled and squirmed in my arms, wriggling between my legs as her giggles graduated to peels of laughter. Her soft rump was rubbing against my dick making it swell behind my fly. My jeans felt uncomfortably tight but the rubbing sensation was delectable. I shamelessly kept tickling her so she'd continue her erratic wriggling and rubbing but eventually she cried uncle.

"Stop! Edward, please stop! I'm gonna pee my pants if you don't!" she gasped trying to escape my hold.

I ceased my assault but pulled her tight against me. She could be in no doubt of my state of arousal which was pressed firmly against her backside. I buried my face in the long, floral strands of hair at the side of her neck and nuzzled behind her ear.

I wondered if she could feel the grin of happiness I had on my face.

She pressed herself against me ensuring close contact from my groin to my chest. The little minx gave a little wiggle of her rump letting me know that she was aware of my arousal pressed insistently against her tailbone and she wasn't dismayed by it. She angled her head back against my shoulder so she could reach my mouth and kissed me, sliding the tip of her tongue between my lips teasingly.

I was more than willing to indulge in a little light love-making with my girl in one of my favorite places and I returned her kiss eagerly sucking her plump lower lip between my own. Somehow rustic settings – the meadow and now the ridge – were conducive to our getting physical with each other.

I'd have to remember that little tidbit for future reference!

I loved kissing Bella. Her lips were soft and plump, her tongue gentle and tentative but often impatient and her mouth tasted so sweet like coffee and plums and vanilla. She never had bad breath, even in the morning after a long nights sleep. I was amazed by that.

Like all testosterone driven young men, the one thing I was most worried about when I was putting the moves on a girl, was, a) did I have body odor, and b) did I have bad breath – c and d applied to the girl in question but not once with Bella had the answer been yes, unlike Lauren who often suffered from both because she ate greasy crap most of time, drank diet coke like water and smoked and drank excessively when she partied. All of that toxic garbage leached out of her pores for days afterward. Toward the end of our relationship I was only fucking Lauren between Wednesdays and Saturday afternoons because I couldn't stand her smell!

I mentally shook away any further thoughts of Lauren and engaged Bella in a passionate melding of our mouths under the shade and protection of my tree. My hands roamed over her stomach stroking upwards to cup her breasts through her thin t-shirt. She stiffened momentarily so I stilled until she relaxed, then rubbed my thumbs over her burgeoning nipples, squeezing and rolling the nubbins between my fingers until they were pebble hard and erect.

She gasped and her breathing increased as desire built in her belly making her wiggle restively against me, rolling her butt over my aching groin. My breathing deepened and increased as my own excitement rose. I wanted to touch between her legs but I didn't know how she'd react to the intimacy and I didn't really want to break the mood by stopping to ask her.

If I touched her _there_ and she didn't want me to, she'd either tell me to stop, slap my face or move my hand away and I would comply instantly without complaint. On the other hand, if she liked it and wanted me to continue she'd hopefully make herself more accessible opening the door for greater intimacy between us.

I remembered what my dad said to me about Bella being only fifteen and responsible sexual behavior but didn't most teenagers experiment? I promised Bella silently that I wouldn't progress our impromptu petting session any further than what she was ready for and although we'd made a little love at the cabin, we hadn't gone as far as touching each other intimately. I knew in my heart and my brain she wasn't ready for that level of sexual interaction but we could at least graduate out of 'Petting 101' after today.

One of Bella's arms reached up so she could curl her hand around my neck, urging my mouth into a more passionate kiss. That was my cue to make a run for second base so I slid one of my hands away from her plump breast – I left the other one where it was to continue its exploration of her soft flesh – and skimmed down her stomach. I fingered her navel through the t-shirt before pulling it up so I could stroke the soft skin of her stomach, dipping the tip of my long third finger into the dainty indentation.

She shuddered in my arms and moaned in response. I groaned as she went limp in my arms and tore her mouth from mine.

"Oh! God, Edward!" she panted. "What are you doing?"

"Shssh. Touching you," I responded as I continued my languid exploration of her belly button. I never knew a navel could be so erotic. I wondered if she'd consent to getting a belly-button ring if I gifted it to her for her birthday. I made a mental note to ask her. I imagined sucking the ring between my lips as I tongued her navel into submission.

A sharp tingle splintered my hard shaft in reaction to the imagery and I hissed. Fuck!

"Can I touch you, Bella?" I whispered near her ear.

"You are touching me."

"Yes, but can I _touch_ you? _There_?" I clarified, hoping like crazy she wouldn't say no.

She was silent and still for a long moment before she tentatively nodded her head. I knew I had to take it slow and not rush her.

"I'll stop whenever you tell me to," I promised her.

"Touch me, Edward," she encouraged softly, giving me the permission I sought.

I circled her navel a few more times before I slowly slid my hand down over her jeans to her crotch until my palm rested over the heart of her. She stiffened in shock and then relaxed as I massaged her with the palm of my hand not letting my fingers come into contact with the delicious softness I felt beneath the thick denim until she'd become accustomed to my presence in that most sexual place.

She gasped and then panted rapidly, subtly rotating her hips below my hand to gain more friction. I don't think she realized what she was doing but my rampant dick felt her movement and he loved it!

"Oh, Edward," she sighed.

Delicate moans were uttered from between her parted lips encouraging me to continue. I nudged her long hair away from her neck with my nose so I could kiss the swan-like column as my left hand continued its massage of her plump breast. My right hand massaged her gently swelling pussy and I brought my fingers into play after a few moments of nibbling at the pounding pulse in her throat.

The third finger of my hand stroked along the natural division in her pussy under the crotch seam of her jeans. I could feel the heat emanating through the fabric. Bella bucked in my arms and yelled out.

"Ahhh!"

"Shssh," I calmed her with a self-congratulatory grin that she thankfully couldn't see. "We don't want to attract attention, Baby. I won't stop but you need to keep quiet."

"O … okaaay," she whispered brokenly. "Ahhh!" she groaned again just as loudly as before as I stroked my finger firmly along the seam below the zipper in her jeans. I felt the tiny nubbin of her clit and I pressed gently with my finger rotating the digit to increase her pleasure.

"Oh God!" she screamed.

I resigned myself that Bella wasn't gonna keep quiet and she was probably a screamer. Normally, I'd love that – what guy wouldn't – but I was worried about all of the tourists roaming about. I didn't want anyone to wander over and investigate.

I paused in my ministrations making her protest audibly as I searched around for something she could bite on or stuff into her mouth. The only thing within reach was the baseball cap she'd been wearing and I snatched it up.

"Here," I said, holding the cap near her mouth. "Bite on this so you don't yell out," I whispered and she grabbed hold of the cap placing the brim between her sharp, white teeth.

"Just relax against me," I whispered, "and let me do all the work. Spread your legs a little," I told her so I would have easier access and make this first experience good for her.

She complied and I continued my massage of her body fanning the embers of her cooling desire into flames of passion. It didn't take long until I heard her muffled moans and I felt and saw the flush of desire suffuse her creamy skin. The heat emanating from her tiny body was tremendous.

I was one lucky fucking bastard!

My finger returned to its new favorite place on her body and the index finger joined its mate sliding along her crease using the seam of the jeans to their advantage. My thumb searched for and found her clit so it could flick, press and rotate against the virgin nubbin. Bella's slender thighs parted further, silently seeking more friction and that magical – once you've had one, you want more – release I was pretty certain she'd never experienced, not even on her own.

Oh Baby, I hope it's the first of many that I give you!

"Ungh, ungh, ungh," she panted through her fierce bite on the hat as I increased the stroking of my fingers on her pussy. My other hand abandoned her breast momentarily to slip beneath the t-shirt and under her bra so I could touch her plump flesh with my hand. She felt amazing and the skin-to-skin contact was what we both wanted and needed. I alternately flicked and pinched her nipple in concert with the stroking of my fingers along her crease and over her clit making her quiver all over.

Her hips were moving against me rapidly now as the excitement built in her. I could see the muscles in her belly clenching as her body raced toward culmination. I bucked my own hips against her rump seeking my own friction, though I wasn't looking for release – this encounter was all about Bella's pleasure. I clamped my lips over the rapid pulse in her throat and sucked hard, simulating what I'd love to be doing to another part of her.

"Ungh," she moaned again. Her feet curled in her sneakers signaling that her climax was imminent and I increased my movements to bring it forth which I did just moments later as she went rigid in my arms. She bit down hard on the cap brim before her mouth opened in a grimace of intense pleasure and it dropped into her lap covering my hand cupping her sex.

"Ohhh God!" she yelled just as an eagle screeched loudly overhead, thank fuck!

I held her through the tremors racking her body, slowing my strokes to bring her down slowly until she collapsed exhausted and sated against me. My own blood was raging with unfilled need. I figured I had a date with a long hot shower and a bottle of hand lotion that night but I didn't mind in the slightest.

"Are you okay?" I whispered after a long minute of silence.

"Yes," she replied sleepily. "That was amazing, Edward. Thank you," she whispered shyly.

"You're welcome," I told her shifting uncomfortably beneath her in an attempt to relieve the pressure on my rampant dick.

"What about you, Edward?" she asked turning around in my arms. "I can ..."

"No!" I yelled then softened my tone when she flinched. "No, Bella. This was about you; not me. You can return the favor, Bella, but not today," I told her as I hugged her close. I was immeasurably grateful that she _wanted_ to give me pleasure.

"But you didn't ..."

"Come?"

She blushed prettily and nodded shyly.

"It doesn't matter, Bella," I said, leaning down to kiss her mouth gently. She tasted sweet.

"Is that what happened to me?" she asked me tentatively.

"Yes. You had an orgasm or a climax."

"I liked it," she said with embarrassment.

I grinned at her. "Good. You're supposed to."

"Come on," I said, leaping to my feet and adjusting myself in my jeans before reaching down to help her stand. "We'd better head back to the field before Mom and Dad send out a search party. We should have been back 15 minutes ago," I said as her hand disappeared under her t-shirt to pull the bra cup over her breast.

"Will they worry?" she asked anxiously.

"Nah, not as long as we hurry. No more photos, okay, otherwise we'll never get back in time for lunch before Emmett eats it all," I joked and she grinned in agreement.

We headed back to the field hand-in-hand and I wore a grin of pride on my face that spread from ear-to-ear. I'd reached second base bringing my girlfriend to her first orgasm and I hadn't even gotten beneath her jeans.

My life was fucking ace!

…

A/N: Good lemon; bad lemon? Let me know.

I'm sorry I took so long to post this chapter but real life is getting in the way. Updates over the next few months until the end of January might be infrequent because I'm having an operation this week and then I'm going to North Queensland for Xmas/New Year. I also had an altercation with a pole in a car park which means I've been dealing with the insurance company and crash repairers, and I'm also in the midst of getting ready to sell my flat at the end of January so I'm renovating, decluttering, cleaning and packing. Phew!


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer is the author and owner of the Twilight Saga. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

…

Beta'd by: Marshmellow007

…

Chapter 17 – The American Pastime

"Where have you two lovebirds been?" called Alice from her station at the picnic table where she was laying out the food we'd prepared yesterday. Edward and I were forty minutes passed the curfew set by Carlisle.

I blushed furiously and pulled the brim of my cap low to hide my guilty eyes and blushing cheeks. Edward scowled at Alice's less than welcome reminder of our tardiness in the presence of their parent's and led me over to the makeshift dining area.

"Enjoying the scenery, Brat," responded Edward with a quelling look at Alice that warned her to keep her comments and questions to herself. "We're starving – is lunch ready?"

"Yes," said Esme as she welcomed us back with a smile and a knowing look at our joined hands and my radiant complexion. I flushed bright red, unable to look her in the eye – Edward was her son after all. Carlisle was eying us suspiciously.

"Why don't you kids wash up and we'll eat," Esme invited. "Your father and brothers have already set up the field for our baseball game."

I looked out over the field, mainly to avoid Carlisle's contemplative eye. The field was configured into a diamond about half the size of a standard baseball field with a pitcher's mound in the center and four bases, one of which would also act as the batters mound. The bats, balls, mitts, t-shirts and other protective equipment was on the ground by the batters mound ready for us to begin playing whenever we wanted.

Edward picked up the bottle of hand sanitizer and squeezed some into the palm of my hand before squirting a blob into his own so we could clean our hands. I grabbed two plates, some plastic cutlery and a stack of napkins.

"What would you like, Bella?" he asked me, serving tongs at the ready.

"A couple of lamb cutlets and some Greek salad," I told him.

He gave me three cutlets and filled and rest of the plate with salad, making sure to include plenty of feta cheese for the added protein.

"You're still too thin," he proclaimed firmly when I told him the portion was too large.

He added a scoop of potato salad to my plate for good measure while I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. Carlisle nodded in approval and took a cue from his son to add more food to Rosalie's meager plate before she could move away. She hissed in exasperation and glared at Edward before stomping over to the picnic blanket where Emmett was chowing down on a plate of food mounded up in the shape of an upturned pudding basin.

Edward piled up his own plate with a generous sample of every dish then poured two glasses of iced tea and grabbed two bread rolls.

"Let's eat!" he said eagerly, inclining his head toward the picnic blanket where Rosalie and Emmett were seated. His parents, Alice and Jasper where seated on another blanket a few feet away.

Edward placed the plastic tumblers of iced tea on the ground, and then took the plates from me so I could ease myself onto the blanket. In truth, I was glad to sit down – my leg ached from the uncustomary mountain-goating I'd indulged in during the last couple of hours. Climbing up and down steep, rocky pathways and scampering over wilderness terrain had taken its toll.

I would have liked to situate a pillow beneath my knee for support but I was afraid of alerting Edward to my plight which would send him into paroxysms of guilt for walking me such a distance, spoiling what had been a wonderful day so far. Instead I wriggled around to get comfortable and bent my leg at the knee to take some pressure off the protesting calf muscles, tendons and ligaments around the joint.

Strangely, it was Emmett who noticed my discomfort – I suppose it was his familiarity with all of the injuries he'd witnessed, sustained and inflicted during this high school football career. He opened his mouth to comment and I hurriedly shook my head at him. He frowned but held his tongue; though I didn't expect it to last much past the time it would take us to eat lunch.

"So, Cygnet, what happened to the bill of your cap?" Emmett asked after a couple of minutes. "It looks like it was attacked by a set of rabid teeth!" he grinned.

I almost choked on some lamb chop and whipped the cap off my head, hiding it behind my back. I could feel the heat of my embarrassment flooding across my face.

Edward scowled and threw a chicken thigh at his brother, hitting him in the chest.

"Hey, thanks, Bro! I wanted another piece of chicken. Now I don't have to get up." He took a huge bite out of the chicken thigh and grinned at us mischievously before chewing and gulping hungrily.

Rosalie rolled her eyes at the brother's antics, but then stared at me with interest and a raised brow. I responded with a shrug and a blush.

"Why did you call me 'Cygnet'?" I asked Emmett when I could speak again.

"Beautiful baby swan," he said as though that explained everything, and then elaborated when he received three quizzical looks. "Bella, meaning 'beautiful', and 'baby', because that's what your beloved beast, Edward calls you, and 'swan', because that's your surname. Ergo, beautiful baby swan – a cygnet!" he said with a flourish of his hands.

"Aww, Emmett, that's so sweet," I said with a giggle.

Rosalie glared at Emmett, and Edward pouted.

"How come you can't come up with a sweet nickname for me out of my name?" Rosalie demanded shrilly.

"Aww, Honey, you know you're my very own 'thorny rose bush'. A rose by any other name is still a beautiful rose. Nothing I can come up with adequately describes your heady fragrance, velvety soft skin and lush shape. No other name would _ever_ do you justice," Emmett cooed, obviously thinking fast.

Rose's expression softened and she actually blushed prettily. Edward sniggered. I thought Emmett was rather romantic for a guy who was a quintessential American athlete. His verbal prose showed that his sole interests didn't always revolve around sport and food.

Emmett leaned forward and kissed Rosalie sweetly on the lips. "Do you want some cake and coffee, Rosie?" She nodded and handed her nearly empty lunch plate to him.

"Good idea," seconded Edward as he stood up and gathered our own plates.

"So, Bella, what's the deal with the bite mark on your hat?" Rosalie asked me wickedly as we watched our men gather dessert.

My head spun around to stare at Rosalie in shock and embarrassment. I had forgotten about Emmett's earlier question, but Rosalie obviously hadn't.

"Ahm … ah … I held the hat between my teeth so I could fix my hair," I answered lamely.

"Uh huh," Rosalie responded with an air of disbelief. "Those must have been some painful snarls if the depth of those teeth marks is any indication," she commented with a grin.

"Ahm … yeah, it was intense," I admitted with a blush.

"I'm sure!"

We were silent for a long moment and Rosalie stretched out in the sun. Edward and Emmett had been joined by Carlisle and Jasper and the four of them were joking around while they dawdled over serving brownies and coffee.

"Um, Rosalie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something? I don't want to make any assumptions, but I'm not comfortable talking about this to anyone else."

"Sure, Bella, what is it?" she said, looking at me quizzically as she sat up.

"Um. It's about … um … birth control," I whispered.

"Ah. What do you want to know?"

"What would you advise and can you recommended a gynecologist, preferably a female doctor?" I asked her in a rush.

"Are you and Edward having sex?"

"No. Sort of, but not exactly," I told her while fidgeting self-consciously.

"You haven't gone all the way, but you're doing … other stuff?" Rosalie asked, clarifying the situation.

"Yeah."

"There are lots of methods," she said. "I did plenty of research myself when I was exploring birth control."

"Okay. What are the options?"

"Well, there are condoms of course, but that requires you to rely on Edward to use them and they're only 98% effective in preventing pregnancy if used correctly."

"Hmm. I want something that's pretty much foolproof that I'm responsible for," I confessed.

I also imagine that Edward and his parents also wanted me to use something foolproof with greater permanency than a hastily applied condom. Carlisle and Esme hadn't said anything to me but I knew it was only a matter of time before Doctor Cullen and Mother Esme pulled me aside for a little chat. I wanted to limit _that_ conversation to a firm declaration about the precautions I was taking and assurances they wouldn't be grandparents any time soon!

"Okay, well there's the contraceptive pill. Some of the newer formulas are better than the older ones and the newer ones tend to have fewer side effects. The pill isn't always foolproof either but its protection is usually better than condoms as long as you aren't using a mini pill. If you're using a mini pill, I'd recommend using condoms as well for back up."

"Okay. What else?"

"There's the Depo-Provera injection. That works pretty well for most girls and you only need to get an injection once every three months – that's what I use. There's also the implant which is injected under the skin and lasts three years. That's almost 100% effective but I know of one girl who had the undesirable side effect of extreme weight gain. She ended up having it removed after she gained twenty pounds in three months."

"Oh, okay. What about the diaphragm or IUD?"

"I wouldn't recommend the diaphragm because you need to insert it before you have sex which kind of kills the mood in any spontaneous situation, but the IUD is supposed to be pretty good and there are two different types – the copper IUD and the hormonal IUD called a Mirena. A friend of mine is using the Mirena and she's had absolutely no problems with it, and it's reduced her period to almost nothing. You need to have it inserted by a doctor but it can stay in for five years."

"Food for thought," I commented absently as my brain churned with an overload of information.

"Yes," Rosalie confirmed. "I'll give you the contact details of my gynecologist in Port Angeles when we get home. Her name is Charlotte Nomad. She's in practice with another female doctor – an obstetrician named Maggie Ireland."

"Do they know Carlisle?" I asked chewing on my lip.

"Yes, but they won't release your medical information to Carlisle without your written consent. You should do your own research and then talk to Charlotte about the best option for you. You might need to try a few types before you find the right fit."

"Okay. Thanks, Rosalie."

"You're welcome."

We lapsed into silence as the guys came back with our dessert and coffee, and Emmett dropped a plump cushion on the ground by my knee. He'd collected it from one of the vacant picnic seats on his way back.

"What's that for?" Edward asked suspiciously.

"Bella's leg. It's paining her," Emmett ratted me out.

Edward paled and dropped to his knees beside me, almost dropping the cardboard tray of coffees that he carried.

"What's _wrong? _Did you hurt it?" he demanded as he dumped the coffee tray, causing the hot drinks to slosh onto the blanket. He cupped my calf firmly in his palm and patted my knee with his other hand.

"It just aches a bit, Edward. I didn't hurt it, I promise you," I reassured him.

"Where does it ache? I'll massage it for you?" he insisted.

"Can I have my coffee?"

He handed me one of the half-empty paper cups and waited for me to tell him where my leg ached. I was positive that if I didn't tell him, he'd massage my entire leg from the ankle to the thigh in an effort to be thorough.

"Well?" he said curtly, losing patience with me.

"Around the scar and the knee joint," I told him quietly.

Edward sat down on his butt at right angles to me and eased my leg over his thighs so he could easily massage my calf and knee. I must admit that he wasn't bad at it. His long fingers were strong and agile, applying firm but gentle pressure that encouraged blood flow to the area and relieved the ache.

I picked up the tray and passed two of the partially empty coffee cups to Emmett and Rosalie. Emmett winked at me and handed me a brownie wrapped loosely in a paper napkin. He tried to give one to Edward but he was fully engrossed in looking after me and ignored the offering. I took it from Emmett instead and tucked it in beside me for Edward to consume later.

"So, when do we play baseball?" I asked when I'd eaten half of my brownie and drank my coffee – I could do with another one so I picked up Edward's forgotten and cooling drink and brought the cup to my mouth.

"We'll begin at 3.30," answered Emmett just as Edward said curtly, "You won't be playing!"

"Okay," I nodded at Emmett, "and why not?" I demanded of Edward. "I know how to play baseball. My stepfather was a professional baseball player you know!"

"How can you ask me that when I'm sitting here rubbing your sore leg because I walked you too far today?" he asked angrily.

I knew he wasn't angry with me. I sighed.

"I can still play, Edward. Your massage is helping a lot and I've been looking forward to the game. I haven't played in a year," I told him a little sadly. The last time I'd played had been July fourth the previous year.

Edward gritted his teeth and kept massaging, but didn't say anything. I hoped that meant he'd relent and let me play without further argument. Carlisle stood up a couple of minutes later and announced that the game would begin. Edward stubbornly sat where he was and kept rubbing at my leg while I tried to pull it out of his firm grasp.

"Come on, Edward. Let's go," I cajoled as Emmett helped Rosalie to her feet.

He glared at me, but clenched his jaw and laid my leg gently aside so he could jump to his feet. He reached down and helped me to stand, and I experimentally flexed my knee and tested the weight. It felt really good.

"How is it?" Edward asked grimly.

"It's good, Edward. Hey, do you realize that we've both received a massage from the other today. We're like a pigeon pair!"

"A what?"

"A pigeon pair. Its origins are English and it originally meant a boy and a girl child or twins, but now it's more commonly used to describe two things or two people with similar traits, like us – a pigeon pair!" I explained to him.

"Where do you get this stuff?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "I read a lot," I told him. "There wasn't always a lot to do while I was recovering, so I read to pass the time."

"Okay, Baby," he agreed with a peck of his lips against my mouth, "we're a pigeon pair. First, Emmett gives you the name of a baby swan and now you're calling us pigeons. Oh, what a 'fowl' day this is!" he joked (badly!). "Get it?"

"Hah, hah. Yes, I get it. Don't give up your day job, Edward," I advised him as we sauntered over to the home base/batters mound. Esme was handing out t-shirts.

She handed me a red and white Team Cullen t-shirt and Edward a blue and white one. I slipped it on over the t-shirt I was already wearing and the others did the same until there was a team of four girls in red and white and four boys in blue and white.

"Okay, listen up," ordered Carlisle. "The girls will bat first and the guys will field. Three strikes and you're out. Jasper will pitch and I'll be catcher. Edward, you're right field and Emmett you're left. Esme will referee as well as bat. You're out if the ball is caught by the pitcher or the catcher and you've not reached a base safely. Understand?" We all nodded. "Good. Girls, select your bats. Who's up first?"

"Me, me, me," squealed Alice dancing around on her toes.

"Wait a minute," interrupted Edward.

I groaned. He frowned at me in disapproval and continued.

"Bella can't really run that fast, so we need to make allowances for that guys. Agreed?"

They all nodded and moved into their assigned positions, Edward moving away reluctantly after advising me to take it easy.

Jasper approached me as I was selecting a bat. I tested the weight of each bat and its swing before settling on the first one I tried. It was most like my old bat, which I hoped was in the boxes of possessions from Florida I hadn't unpacked yet.

"Bella?"

"Hey, Jasper. What's up?" I hadn't had a chance to talk to him much today. Maybe Edward and I could sit and talk with him and Alice a bit after the game.

"What's your pitching preference?"

"Um, underarm," I said apologetically.

He grinned. "Underarm it is. Don't worry, Bella. Alice likes it underarm as well, even though she pitches like a pro. You're up after Alice," he told me before he turned to jog over to the pitcher's mound.

Alice was dancing around like she had ants in her pants while Jasper and Carlisle exchanged warm up balls.

"Okay, batter up," called Carlisle. Alice danced over to home base and stood in batting position nodding at Jasper that she was ready. Carlisle crouched behind her ready to catch any missed balls.

Jasper pitched an underarm ball at Alice who let it go by.

"Strike one!"

Carlisle threw the ball back to Jasper and showed him some sort of hand signal. Jasper nodded imperceptibly and pitched again.

Alice swung but missed, spinning around in a full pirouette. She giggled and blew Jasper a kiss.

"Strike two!"

Alice jiggled and shrugged her shoulders as she determinedly arranged herself in what she obviously thought was her optimum batting position and then swung her bat at the fast incoming ball that Jasper let fly.

CRACK!

Alice flung her bat to the side almost hitting Carlisle in the head as she took off along the marked path to first base. Rosalie, Esme and I were loudly cheering Alice on as Edward fielded her ball. She rounded first base and sprinted for second where she wisely stopped when Edward leapt into the air to catch the ball and threw it back to Jasper. She grinned and danced on the base on her tippy-toes.

"You're up, Bella," said Carlisle with a loving grin at his daughter's antics.

I walked over to the base and swung my bat a few times before getting into my favorite batting position. I saw Edward chatting with Jasper and Emmett who were nodding their heads agreeably as I waited. I could only imagine what Edward was ordering them to do.

My overprotective, sweet Edward.

Jasper pitched the ball at me in the agreed underarm. I swung, but missed. Carlisle caught the ball and threw it back to Jasper. I knew he was making some sort of signal to Jasper but I hadn't seen enough of them to figure out what it was he was telling Jasper to do. Whatever it was, Jasper seemed to agree.

My bat connected with the ball on the second pitch. CRACK! I batted the ball long and high into the air. Both Edward and Emmett took off after it as I dropped my bat and shuffled along to first base. Alice made a run for third base and made it safely just as Emmett caught my ball. I was only half way to first base when he did the strangest thing, causing me and the others to laugh out loud.

He started running and moving his arms in what could only be described as slow-motion. He even exaggerated his facial expressions to keep with the slow-motion theme. He reminded me of how the bionic man was depicted as running super-fast – while everything around him was moving in normal speed – in the old 70s TV show, the 'Six Million Dollar Man'. The only thing missing was the bionic sound effects. Esme temporarily forgot about refereeing and lifted her camera to film the action for posterity.

"That's my monkey-man," yelled Rosalie with a good-natured laugh and a shake of her head in response to Emmett's antics.

I made it to within two feet of first base before Emmett threw the ball to Jasper in normal speed. I stepped onto second base just as Jasper caught the ball. I was safe. My team cheered me on and I fist pumped the air in triumph.

Rosalie was up to bat next and she swung her bat experimentally as Esme continued to film the game. She struck gold on the third ball (which was thrown in a proper baseball pitch) and made a run for first base. Alice sprinted for home base and I shuffled my way along to second. Rosalie passed me in a blur and we slapped hands as I continue my shuffle. I saw Edward field the ball easily but he kept dropping it giving me a chance to get along to second base before he threw it to Jasper. Rosalie was safe on third base with me on second, as Alice took over the filming and refereeing, so Esme could bat.

Esme was a fantastic player and she connected with the ball on Jasper's first pitch.

CRACK! The boom was deafening and I watched her ball sail far and high into the sky before it dawned on me that I needed to start moving if I was gonna make it to third base safely before one of the guys caught it. Rosalie had already made it home and was jumping up and down cheering me and Esme on. Alice was jumping up and down gesticulating wildly with the hand holding the camera, and I wondered what the film would show when we watched it later. Esme was rounding first base as both Edward and Emmett chased after her ball which was now way out of left field. Esme was gaining on me and offered me encouragement as she passed me on her way to third base.

Emmett caught the ball and jogged back into the field, but then knelt down to tie his shoe lace giving me a chance to make it to third base with Esme before he threw the ball back to Jasper. Alice passed the camera to Rosalie and picked up her bat ready to go again so that Esme and I could make it home.

"They're good boys, aren't they?" said Esme.

"They sure are," I agreed. Not many guys – especially two like Jasper and Emmett who were serious sportsmen – would twist the American pastime into a game of idiocy and fun so that everyone (me!) could have a fair shot at playing.

"Are you having fun?" she asked me.

"Yeah, I really am. The last time I played, was with Phil's non-league team in Jacksonville at a family picnic and game day. All of the wives and kids – even the little ones – got to play. The team fielded then in much the same way our guys are fielding today."

"Hmm. Usually we're more serious about how we play the game because all of the guys are huge baseball fans, and _not_ following the rules would be considered sacrilege, but I've decided the Cullen version we're playing today is far more fun. I think we should make it the basis for all future family games. Thank you, Bella."

I was so happily distracted by Esme's inclusion of me in the Cullen family that I almost missed the crack of Alice's ball as she hit what looked to me to be a home run for her.

"Let's go," encouraged Esme and she took off at a jog with me shuffle-jogging beside her.

I could hear Alice whooping behind us as she rounded each of the bases. Edward collected her ball and was racing back to the field when Alice yelled to Esme, "Grab her arm, Mom. I'll get the other one!"

Before I could react, Esme grasped one of my arms above the elbow while Alice slowed down long enough to grab the other one, and they somehow lifted me off my feet to rush us towards home base. We toppled over into a laughing heap of arms and legs as we made it over the line (so to speak) just as Jasper caught the ball Edward tossed to him.

"And, they're safe!" yelled Carlisle standing over the top of us. Rosalie had filmed the whole thing and was busy rewinding it to the beginning of the last play while the guys jogged in from the field and Carlisle helped us all to stand.

"Good game, ladies!" he congratulated with a smacking kiss to Esme's lips.

We took a break for five minutes before the guys were up to bat. Edward lifted me up at the waist and swung me around before rewarding me with his own smacking kiss.

"That was awesome!" he cheered. "Awesome!"

"So were you," I said, "dropping the ball like it was a hot potato so I could make it to second base." He blushed and grinned at me and I rewarded him with a soft kiss.

"Hey, Emmett," I called out when he stopped smooching Rosalie, "that was the best bionic man I've seen since last weeks re-run on Nickelodeon."

"Yeah!" he agreed, fist bumping Jasper.

We all had drinks of water, because it was unusually hot for Washington, and then Alice headed out to the pitcher's mound while Rosalie and Esme took right and left field respectively. I was both referee and catcher after assuring my team that I could indeed catch a baseball. Alice and I agreed on a couple of key hand signals while I donned the protective catchers gear. Emmett was up to bat first, followed by Edward, Jasper and then Carlisle.

The next innings continued more in the vein of a regular baseball game with the guys moderating their batting and running speed just enough for the girls to be able to field their balls. If they played as they normally did, the game would have been over in four minutes. As it was, they dragged it out eight minutes to the girls fifteen minute innings.

We played one more innings per team for a total of four, finishing up at around four thirty by the time scheduled breaks were taken, and Carlisle declared the game a draw. We were packing up our picnic and gear to head home when Carlisle's cell phone rang. He walked away to answer the call and I could see him listening intently as he glanced at me from time to time. I worried about what the call was about.

"What do you think that's about?" I asked Edward, nodding toward his dad as I packed the lunch debris into a plastic trash bag.

"I don't know, but it might be about our morning visitor," he mused, hefting the cooler of left-over food. "Come on, let's take this stuff to the car," he said, taking my free hand.

I noticed that Edward kept one anxious eye on his father for the duration of the call and both cars were completely packed by the time Carlisle finished and strode over to where we were all standing, waiting.

"Bella," said Carlisle.

"What is it, Dad, what's wrong?" Edward demanded before I could respond.

Carlisle shot Edward a quelling look. He backed down with a clenched jaw of irritation, but stood behind me so Carlisle could deliver the bad news. What else could it be, _but_ bad news. That's the only type I seemed to get lately.

"Bella, there's been a fire at your house," Carlisle delivered.

I felt my knees go weak and I sagged against Edward in shock and dismay.

"How bad?" I whispered, as a freezing shiver raced along my spine and over my skin making me shudder.

"Pretty bad, Bella. That was Chief Uley on the phone. The fire started in the kitchen and spread throughout the house quickly. By the time anyone noticed and called 911, the fire was already in the roof."

I started crying.

Edward wrapped his arms around me tightly.

"Is there anything left?" I croaked, suspecting what the answer would be.

Carlisle gulped. "The foundation," he told me sadly.

…

A/N: Poor Bella just can't catch a break, can she? Photos plus some fun bionic sound effects and a Six Million Dollar Man clip are on my blog. The link is on my profile page.

Rosalie and Bella discussed birth-control in this chapter. Please don't rely on the options discussed when choosing your own methods of contraception. You should consult a medical professional and do your own research.

I don't know a lot about baseball but I hope I got it mainly right. Let me know if there are glaring mistakes.

Am I showing my age with my references to a 70s TV show in this chapter and 80's rock stars in previous ones? If you haven't seen the Six Million Dollar Man (SMDM) or its complementary show the Bionic Woman you don't know what you're missing. The SMDM hasn't aired on Nickelodeon in recent times but it is apparently available on DVD if you want to watch it.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer is the author and owner of the Twilight Saga. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

…

Unbeta'd because I wanted to get this posted before Christmas. All errors are mine.

…

Chapter 18 – Burn and Learn

I stood in front of the blackened, crumbling debris, which just a few hours ago was my house and I cried – great gulping sobs of sorrow and loss. Drenching tears flowed from my stinging eyes, exacerbated by the haze of smoke, which lingered in the air around my property.

There was nothing left. Nothing! Just the foundation, the front steps, some smoldering timbers and the macabre specter of an appliance that was once the refrigerator. The acrid smell of the smoke filled my lungs with it's burn leaving me with the urge to cough violently, but I resisted, otherwise Edward would drag me away.

Edward's arms held me tightly against him, both in comfort and to stop me from going toward the house again, like I'd tried to do when we first arrived. Without a thought for my own safety, I'd leapt from Carlisle's barely stationary car and hurried toward the blackened front steps, only to be tackled by Edward as I shuffle-ran up the front path.

"Let me go, Edward!" I yelled, struggling in his grasp.

"No!"

"Yes! I want to see!"

"No! There is nothing _else_ to see, Bella, that you can't see from right here!" he tried to reason with me.

"But, it's Charlie's house, Edward. I have to see if there's anything left," I sobbed incoherently.

"Bella," Edward said softly. "Everything of your Dad's that held sentimental value is at the house – our house – remember? Emmett, Jasper and I loaded it all into a trailer and put it in the garage at home. It's safe, okay, it's safe," he said hugging me to him. "You're safe," he whispered emotively as he shuddered against me.

Oh yeah! I forgot. With everything else going on, I hadn't had a chance to start restoring the furniture pieces I'd saved and they were covered with drop clothes in Rosalie's workshop. I relaxed slightly and blew out a breath. Foolish Bella. What were you gonna do? Sift through the ashes, hoping the house and it's contents would rise up all shiny, new and untarnished like the mythical phoenix.

"Okay," I sobbed burying my hot and clammy face against Edward's chest.

Rosalie and Alice came to stand beside us, each of them rubbing one of my shoulders in a comforting gesture.

"I wonder what caused the fire?" murmured Emmett from behind Rosalie. I don't think he expected anyone to hear him, because he seemed surprised when Jasper responded.

"I don't know, but whatever it was, it caused the fire to burn quickly and hotly."

"How do you know _that,_ Jasper?" asked Emmett.

Jasper rolled his eyes. "I'm a chemistry major, Emmett! Jeez, do ya think I just ignite a Bunsen burner during lab class and look at the pretty blue flame. Shit, man! I experiment with chemical reactions in the lab and I know an accelerated fire when I see one!" he explained.

"You are absolutely correct, Mr Whitlock-Cullen," confirmed the fire chief who overheard the conversation. He strode over to us with Carlisle and Esme, and introduced himself to me.

"Miss Swan?" I nodded. "I'm Fire Chief Alistair Watkins," he said as he removed his thick fire retardant glove and offered his hand in greeting.

"Please call me Bella," I responded hoarsely as I shook his hand. "Um, what happened? You said you agree with Jasper."

"Yes. I suspect there was some type of accelerant present that fueled the fire. As best as I can figure, the fire started in the kitchen and quickly spread throughout the house. It was a mighty hot fire and it was well alight by the time we got here."

"Oh."

"I understand the house was being renovated, Bella. Were there flammable products in the house, like paint cans or thinners or cleaning products?"

"Um, I don't know for sure, but I don't think so – we hadn't started the painting yet. Billy Black has been doing the construction work but he's pretty good about cleaning up after himself – he tends to take his tools and stuff home with him every day."

"Okay. Well, I'll need to speak to Billy to be sure, and an investigator will be checking over what's left of the house with a fine tooth comb. Make sure you kids stay out of the damage zone, okay – it's dangerous and we don't want the site contaminated. In fact, I'm going to have Sam Uley tape off the entire property as a crime scene," he declared.

I stiffed and so did Edward. A crime scene! Another one! I was getting sick of the sight of that distinctive yellow and black tape.

"You think this was arson, Chief Watkins?" demanded Edward.

"It's possible, Edward. Something started the fire and then something accelerated the burn. There may be an electrical fault," he mused.

"I don't think so, Chief," countered Alice.

"Why's that, Alice?"

"Well, the building inspector signed off on all of the electrical work last week – the house was completely re-wired and the power is turned off at the electrical panel when nobody's here."

"How do you know that?"

Esme piped up, "Alice is helping Bella with the renovation, Chief Watkins. She's been project managing all of the work with my supervision. I saw the electrical certificate issued by the inspector myself – it was a top job and exceeded minimum code in all respects."

The chief nodded and gazed at Alice with new respect. "Who's the electrician?"

"Frank Murchison," Alice told him.

"He's good," the chief agreed with a nod of his head.

"Yes he is," agreed Esme. "I've used him on all of my jobs in Forks and Port Angeles."

"Okay, well, I'll need to talk to him as well, and I might need to talk to you both again, Bella and Alice."

"Alright," I whispered and I heard Alice murmur her own agreement, but I wondered why he thought anything we could tell him would be helpful – we weren't even here when the fire started.

"You might as well all go on home; there's nothing else to be done here today."

Carlisle shook the chief's hand. "Thank you, Alistair. You'll be in touch soon?"

"Yes."

With one last sad look at my house, Edward turned me around with an arm over my shoulders and walked me back to the car, protectively surrounded by the Cullen's.

…

Edward led me upstairs and into his bedroom. All of a sudden, I felt tired – drained of all life and I just wanted to snuggle with Edward and forget for awhile. Why was today such a _bitch_? First, we had an intruder reconnoitering the Cullen's house and then _my_ house burned to the ground. The only good part was our visit to Stormers Field.

I sat on the edge of the bed and flopped backwards with a huge sigh of exhaustion. Edward removed my converse sneakers and socks, and rubbed the toes and sole of one of my feet. I moaned – it felt so good and I told him so.

"Why is this happening, Edward?"

He laid face down on the bed beside me, propping himself up on his forearms and gently stroked the hair from my eyes.

"I don't know, but I want you to be extra careful, okay," he said. "Be vigilant, Bella and make sure you have someone with you if you leave the house until we find out what's going on."

"You think it was arson too, don't you?"

He was silent for a long moment and when I opened my eyes to gaze upon his face, his mouth was stretched into a thin line of anger and his eyes glowed with green fire.

"I … think the fire is suspicious," he told me cautiously.

"I'll have to call Jenks and let him know. If it's proven to be arson, will the insurance cover the damage?" I mused.

"I'm not sure, but Dad might know. Do you want me to call Jenks for you?"

I really should do it myself, but I just didn't have the energy and if I had to tell somebody about it right now, I'd probably start wailing again. I think another one of my emotional reactions to trauma was more than Jenks should have to cope with.

"Would you, please? His card is in my purse. Would you pass me my bag, Edward?"

I pulled the card from my wallet and handed it to Edward before dragging myself off the bed. I walked tiredly into Edward's closet to find a t-shirt so I could take a nap with Edward – it was Sunday so I could snuggle with Edward in his bed. I noticed the dress-form was naked and I smiled. Edward must have moved the jacket which meant he'd touched it – he'd made progress and I was proud of him.

_'I wonder where he put it?'_

I pulled one of Edward's perfectly ironed t-shirts from a coat hanger and stripped off my outer clothes which held the odor of smoke. I sniffed my hair and it smelled as well, but I slipped on the clean shirt and headed into the bathroom to brush it and freshen up, dropping my clothes into Edward's laundry hamper by the door. I was climbing into Edward's bed when he came back into the room.

"What did he say?" I asked him wearily as I sank against the soft pillows.

"Who – Dad or Jenks?"

"Both of them."

"Dad said the insurance should cover arson – if that's what it is – as long as they can't pin it on you."

I startled and my eyes widened as I automatically sat up in the bed.

"_What_? Why would the insurance company think I burned down my own house?" I gasped.

"I'm not saying they will and neither is Dad, but plenty of people do it, Bella, to get the insurance money, but that's not the case with you. A lot of well respected people know you were planning to live in the house and you weren't even in town today."

I worried at my lip with my teeth and gripped my hair – a habit I'd picked up from Edward. He hurriedly sat beside me on the bed and gently pulled my bottom lip away from my teeth, stroking the tiny depressions I'd made with his thumb pad.

"Don't think about it, Bella. I shouldn't have said anything," he berated himself.

"Yes you should have, I don't ever want you lie to me, Edward. Relationships are built on truth, not lies," I told him and he nodded in reluctant agreement. "What did Jenks say?"

"Dad had already called him for you; he also spoke with Kate. Jenks will call the insurance company and get the paperwork started and Kate said she'll call you tomorrow. The insurance company won't pay the claim until it has the fire inspection report, so it could take awhile."

"Alright," I said lying down again. "Will you snuggle with me, Edward?"

He was off the bed and stripping off his clothes before I could blink twice, and then he did something very un-Edward-like – he dropped his clothes onto the carpet where he stood. I knew he'd be shampooing the carpet tomorrow to get the residual smoke out of the wool fibers.

Edward climbed into bed and picked up a remote from his nightstand to close the drapes at the windows. He pulled me into his arms and I relaxed as I laid my head against his chest, sighing with pleasure.

"Jenks also said that your car has arrived from Florida," Edward murmured. "It's at a storage facility in Seattle, so we can go pick it up anytime – we just need to get the paperwork from Jenks first."

"Oh."

"Would you like to drive to Seattle this week to get it?" he asked as he stroked his hand soothingly along my arm.

"How will we get there? You can't drive us there, because I can't drive my car back."

"Emmett and Rosalie said they'd take us. They were planning a trip to Seattle soon anyway."

"Alright," I agreed.

"Good. You know, having your car means you need to learn how to drive," Edward said. "How about we begin your driving lessons this week?" he offered eagerly.

I yawned sleepily. "Okay, but are you gonna be able to teach me, Edward? I thought a driving instructor had to be licensed for three years or something like that?"

If I'd been looking at this face, I would have seen him scowling.

"Yeah. But Sam Uley will turn a blind eye as long as we don't leave the town limits. Anyway, I'll start with teaching you to drive up and down the driveway, how to reverse and maneuver a three-point turn, and how to park – we've got some witches hats in the garage Dad used when he was teaching us to drive."

"Okay," I whispered as I drifted off to sleep.

…

I was speaking with Billy Black on the phone the next morning when Edward rushed out of the laundry room with a can of carpet shampoo and some rags clutched in his hands. He had his own vacuum stored in a utility closet upstairs, so I knew the carpet would be as fresh as a daisy within the hour. He'd already thrown out his clothes from yesterday even though I'd offered to wash them for him, and he would have thrown mine out as well except I stopped him just in time. We'd played tug-of-war with my jeans until the denim almost split into two at the crotch.

"Edward! There's nothing wrong with my clothes, or yours for that matter. They only smell smokey; they're not fire damaged," I gritted out at him. "A good soaking and washing will remove the smell. You've got to stop discarding perfectly good clothes just because they get a little dirty! That's what _washing machines_ were invented for!" I lectured him sarcastically.

He just scowled and let go of my jeans, but he refused to allow me to wash his clothes for him. I resigned myself that he'd probably never change his attitude to dirty or damaged clothes. My revelation made me question whether the leather jacket was hanging in his closet or if he'd thrown it away when I wasn't looking. I opened my mouth to ask him, when Alice hollered at us to come and get breakfast.

"Let's go," said Edward. "I'm starving and I'm even prepared to eat food that Mom and Alice cooked, I'm so hungry," he told me as he trailed me from the room. We'd missed dinner last night because we slept through our nap until the early hours of this morning.

…

"How did Billy take the news?" Esme asked me as I hung up the phone. She was working from home today and had a new client coming over in about an hour – a young woman who'd moved to Forks a couple of weeks ago who was looking to decorate the house she was renting.

"I think he was mostly worried that he wouldn't get paid for the work he'd already completed," I told her, "but I assured him that he would be. I told him to submit his invoice to Jenks. He didn't lose any tools but the building supplies that were in the house – they weren't paid for," I sighed. "I said I'd go down to the hardware store and pay the bill if he dropped the invoice around."

"Bella, I'm really sorry about your house," Esme told me as she patted my hand sympathetically.

"So am I … and thanks."

"What will you do now? Will you rebuild?"

"I don't know; the event is still too fresh at the moment and until the fire investigation is complete the insurance company won't pay out on the claim so there's no point worrying about it," I told her.

"That's wise, Bella. You have a home with us for as long as you want it, Bella – you don't need to leave; you're part of the family now," Esme told me with genuine affection.

I smiled at her gratefully and changed the subject as I watched Esme sift through the fabric and paint samples she'd spread over the kitchen table following breakfast.

"Who's your new client?"

"Her name is Queenie Smith – she's Daisy McAllister's replacement."

"Oh, I think I've seen her at the police station. She's about twenty-five with reddish-blond hair, I think. She waved to me," I told Esme.

"Does she know you?"

"No, and I've never met her before. I thought it was weird at the time but Edward was so busy interrogating the chief about their progress in locating Boucher that I forgot about it."

Esme grinned knowingly when I mentioned Edward and I reciprocated. Edward was like a dog with a bone when he was in interrogation mode.

"Is Alice going to help you?" I asked Esme.

"Yes. I asked her and she's keen to keep learning. I'm taking a leaf out of your book and I'm going to pay her. Ever since she's had to pay for everything she wants from her own purse, she's actually developed a health respect for the value of money!" Esme told me with a light laugh.

I could understand her mirth. Alice had no concept of the cost of anything and bought whatever she wanted when her parents were paying the bills. That stopped when she lost her credit card for the summer. I'd paid her twice since I'd worked out the details with Esme and I planned to pay her the last $400 when I got my next allowance in two weeks – it wasn't Alice's fault the renovation came to a smoldering halt.

"Carlisle said he owes you one!" Esme told me with a grin.

I was grinning back at her when the intercom buzzed announcing the arrival of a visitor at the front gate.

"That'll be Queenie," said Esme as she went to the front door to answer the summons. She came back a few minutes later with a young woman in tow. She was looking around interestedly as she walked behind Esme, but halted suddenly when she spied me at the kitchen table. She studied me closely leaving me self-conscious and I thought I saw a hint of dislike reflected in her face before she smoothed her features into a pleasant visage.

"Hi. You're Isabella Swan aren't you?" the woman said with a hint of demand in her greeting. Esme looked startled.

"Um, yeah, but it's Bella," I responded.

"Right, Bella. I saw you at the station and I've _heard_ all about you," she told me. I may have been mistaken but I thought I heard a slight sneer in her voice. Her attitude today was completely different to my first glimpse of her the other week.

"Oh, yeah, right. I remember – you waved at me."

"Hmm. Are you joining us today?"

"Um, no. I'm not a decorator," I said getting up from the table.

Esme stepped in. "My daughter Alice will be joining us, Queenie. She's interested in design and decorating so I'm teaching her over the summer. Is that alright with you?" said Esme with a hint of challenge in her voice.

"Uh sure, Mrs Cullen," agreed Queenie who turned away from Esme dismissively to address me again.

"And, what mischief will _you_ be causing today, Bella?" said Queenie acidly. If my expression was a reflection of Esme's, then we were both stunned at the rudeness of this young woman who didn't know us from Adam.

She obviously recognized how harsh her thoughtless question sounded because she hurriedly followed up with, "I mean, young kids today are always getting up to something, aren't they?" she said to Esme with a laugh. Esme wasn't fooled for a minute.

"_My _children are good kids," refuted Esme through gritted teeth, "who respect other people, especially those they don't know," she said pointedly while looking at Queenie expectantly.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure they all are. I didn't mean to cause offense," she apologized. "Sometimes my mouth runs away from me," she explained.

I looked from Queenie to Esme and decided to hightail it out of the kitchen after Esme cocked her head infinitesimally toward the door.

"Well, I'm going to find Edward," I said as I inched toward the exit. "I'll send Alice downstairs," I told Esme. "It was … nice to meet you, Queenie," I said, because I couldn't think of what else to say to her.

"Let's get started, Queenie. My office is this way," I heard Esme say coolly as I reached the stairs.

...

I poked my head into Alice's open bedroom door on the second floor. She was sitting on the edge of her bed looking through her notebook.

"Hi, Alice."

"Hi, Bella. What's up?"

"Esme's new client is here."

"Oh, okay. What's she like?"

I paused. "She's … strange," I told her, sitting beside her on the bed.

One of Alice's eyebrows rose into her spiky fringe. "What do you mean by 'strange'?"

I told her about the conversation downstairs and she looked offended on my behalf.

"She actually used those exact words? She said 'what mischief will _you_ be causing today, Bella?'" Alice asked for clarification.

"Yep."

"Huh. That's really weird," she agreed with a shake of her head. "Are you sure you don't know her from somewhere?"

"Yep."

"Well, I'll see how she reacts to me and I'll let you know. She's new in town, right?"

"Yep. She's Daisy McAllister's replacement," I told her.

"Where's she from, do you know?"

"I'm not sure, but her voice has a northern inflection – Canadian maybe," I told Alice.

"Hmm," Alice murmured reflectively. "What are you and Edward doing today?" she asked me, changing the subject.

"Edward's gonna give me my first driving lesson," I told her.

"Good luck with that," Alice scoffed. "Edward tried to teach me to drive last year and he swore he'd never get in a car with me behind the wheel again," she said with a cheeky grin.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing much, I just hit the mailbox and ran over the kerb in the Volvo. Oh, and I might have clipped a fire hydrant," she confessed with a shrug.

I inhaled sharply. "That would have done it," I agreed. "I'm surprised he let you drive the Volvo."

"So am I, but the rest of them (she meant her family) refused to let me drive their cars and Edward being Edward bragged that he could teach anyone to drive because he'd aced his advanced driving class, so he had to let me drive the Volvo to teach me."

"How many lessons did he give you?" I asked her curiously.

"Just one," she confessed tongue-in-cheek.

We both burst out laughing.

"I gotta go. See ya," I said with a little wave, as I left the room still chuckling.

...

Edward was on his hands and knees with his face to the floor sniffing his carpet when I entered his room. He evidently didn't trust the assertions written on the shampoo can and was testing the carpet's freshness for himself. I wondered if it met with his approval.

I watched him for a long moment, before he sat back on his legs, apparently satisfied, until he finally noticed me. I raised my brows at him.

He flushed at being caught in an OCD moment, although it wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last.

"Alright?"

"Yes," he mumbled as he picked up his cleaning paraphernalia and stood up. "Are you ready for your first driving lesson?"

"Yep. I spoke to Alice about it a little while ago," I said slyly.

"Oh," he gulped.

"Yep. Are you afraid?" I asked him, rocking back on my heels.

He shifted around and wouldn't look me in the eye. "Yes," he grumbled finally, "but I increased my insurance coverage this morning," he confessed to me with another blush.

I laughed and hugged him, trapping his arms against his body. He tried to hug me back but his hands were full, so he kissed me instead. I relaxed against him and deepened the kiss, knowing it wouldn't go too far while Edward had his hands full. After fastidiously cleaning his carpet, he wasn't about to drop the dirty cloths he held, back onto the floor.

"Let me get rid of this stuff and we'll get started," he said as he walked toward the door. "Go change your shoes," he ordered. "You need to wear runners or loafers or something. Flip-flops are dangerous to drive in," he lectured, referring to my current footwear.

"Okay. I'll meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes," I agreed as I followed him out to go to my own room. He pecked me on the lips again before bounding down the stairs.

Edward was in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee and flicking through the paper when I walked in from the hallway. His car keys were on the kitchen island and he picked them up as he nodded approvingly at my feet.

"Let's go," he said, taking my hand to lead me to the garage. He whistled happily as we walked across the bright green lawn. It was a lovely day, sunny and warm, and the ground was dry, so hopefully I wouldn't tear up the drive or the lawn too much.

Edward instructed me on how to use the key fob to unlock the car and disengage the car alarm. I mentally rolled my eyes – I knew how to use a key fob – but I listened attentively none-the-less. He then spent twenty minutes instructing me on how to adjust my seat, the rear-view mirror, the side mirrors, the steering wheel and the foot pedals until he was satisfied I knew what to do.

"Okay, put the key in the ignition. Make sure the gear is in park and your hand brake is on," he said.

I looked down. Check and check! I nodded at him.

"Okay, turn the key and hold it for a second or so until the engine turns-over."

The sound of a loud grinding noise filled the car and I let go of the key like a shot. Fuck! Edward cringed and shuddered and I just knew he wanted to push me from the drivers seat.

"Alright, Bella," he gritted out through clenched teeth, "that's what happens when you hold the key in the 'start' position once the engine is running."

I gulped and nodded, my hands shaking slightly with nerves.

He looked at me sternly. "Don't do it again," he ordered.

My eyes widened.

"Put your seat belt on," he commanded.

I did as I was told, then looked at him expectantly.

"Put both hands on the wheel at the ten and two positions, like on a clock," he told me.

Geezus! I know what the ten and two positions are. I'm not an idiot!

"Press that red button on the center of the steering wheel," he said, "It operates the garage door."

I pressed it, and watched the roller door in front of us slide up and out of view.

"What's this blue one for?" I asked him, almost timidly.

"The front gates. Don't touch it," he said.

What? _Ever_? How was I supposed to drive off the property if I didn't touch it?

"We won't be going onto the road today, so you won't need to open the gates," he explained, answering my unspoken question.

Oh.

"Press on the foot brake with your right foot and take hold of the gear. Press the button under your thumb and move the gear into the drive position."

I couldn't see the word 'drive' anywhere on the gear display, so looked at Edward inquiringly.

"The D, Bella. It stands for 'drive'," he explained in a suffering tone of voice.

Oh, yeah. Right. P for park (I got that one) and D for drive. Duh!

I shifted into the D position and waited for my next instruction.

"Take hold of the hand brake and press the button at the front with your thumb, and lower the lever."

I did that. "Now what?"

"Put your right foot on the accelerator and apply gentle pressure."

"What do I do with my left foot?"

"Nothing. This is an automatic car. You only need to use your right foot to operate the pedals. Keep your left foot over to the side and out of the way."

"Okay. But my mom's car has a manual transmission. Can you drive one of them?"

He scoffed at my question. "Of course I can drive a manual transmission. I'm a guy!" he told me arrogantly, slightly affronted.

This time I really did roll my eyes. At the same time, I pressed down on the accelerator, perhaps slightly harder than I should have, and we shot out of the garage like a bullet. Edward yelped (I was too shocked to make any sound!) and he gripped the bottom of his seat momentarily.

The Volvo's collision alarm sounded almost immediately, just before Edward leaned over to grab the wheel, turning it sharply to the left before I collided with a light post at the edge of the wide concrete apron in front of the garage.

"FUCKING HELL, BELLA!" Edward yelled at me.

"WHAT? YOU SAID PRESS ON THE ACCELERATOR!" I yelled back.

"I CLEARLY REMEMBER, SAYING TO PRESS ON IT GENTLY!" he snapped. "Stop the car!"

"HOW?"

"Press on the brake!" he said impatiently. His voice held a note of hysteria as we careened all over the driveway. My foot was still on the accelerator, you see.

I forgot about Edward's instruction to leave my left foot out of the driving equation and I brought it into play, stamping down on the foot brake while my right foot pressed on the accelerator. The car's tires squealed as the car abruptly lurched, then halted. The engine roared and little puffs of smoke erupted from the wheels as I unwittingly engaged in my first burnout.

I could hear Emmett and Jasper whooping and clapping from the sidelines where they'd set themselves up as spectators to watch Edward teach me to drive – Emmett had a bowl of popcorn which he was devouring avidly. Rosalie stood beside them and shook her head at their behavior and my attempt at driving.

"Whoo, Bella. You go girl!" shouted Emmett joyously.

"TAKE YOUR FOOT OFF THE FUCKING ACCELERATOR!" yelled Edward.

"AGH!" I screamed right near Edward's ear. "DON'T SWEAR AT ME!" I yelled back.

Edward whimpered and reared back as though my voice had burst his eardrum. The combination of Edward yelling at me, my nervousness and the fear I held that I would crash us into something (like the house!) were making my physical responses something less than stellar.

I took my foot off the brake instead.

The car fishtailed slightly, then took off again. I heard and felt the front tires thump as the car jumped the driveway kerb and skidded across the pristine lawn heading straight for the windows near the front of the house.

_'I. DONT. LIKE. DRIVING! You hear me!'_

I glanced anxiously at Edward and he was white in the face. When I looked forward again, I caught a glimpse of Emmett, Jasper and Rosalie in the rear view mirror chasing after the car. They were waving their arms and yelling at me to STOP, but I was frozen in place, rigidly holding onto the steering wheel.

Edward shook himself out of his stupor and reached down, grabbing my right leg around the knee and yanked my foot off the accelerator. He pushed the gear lever down a notch (I found out later he put the car into a lower gear) and he pulled up hard on the hand brake. The car jerked, then coasted to a stop outside the windows to Esme's office, the front of the Volvo tapping against the wall of the house, right in front of a stunned Esme and a wide-eyed Alice.

Three seconds later the front airbags deployed forcing Edward and I back against our seats. I felt like I was suffocating in a face full of puffy, stiff gray cloth before it began to deflate. I realized that if Phil's car had had airbags, he and my mom might have survived.

The next thing I knew, Esme was yanking open my door, trying to pull me from the car but my seat belt had locked around me. She reached in and took hold of my shoulders instead.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" she screeched at me as she shook me.

"Y...e...esss," I whimpered. She reached around me and pressed the release button on my seat belt, and then pulled me effortlessly from the car. I don't know where she found the strength – adrenalin, relief and fear, I suppose.

"Get out of the car, Edward!" Esme ordered shrilly. "Are you okay, Son?"

"Are you alright?" Alice shrieked at me, as I cuddled against Esme. I nodded.

Edward reached over to the ignition to turn the roughly idling motor off and retrieve the keys before he exited the car. Leaning his arms against the roof, he buried his head against his forearms. He was visibly trembling.

"Edward! Answer me!"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm okay," he rasped.

Rosalie was inspecting the damage to the Volvo while Jasper and Emmett stood either side of Edward and comforted him by clapping him on the shoulders. His knees collapsed when Emmett's beefy hand whacked him a little too hard and Jasper had to pull him upright.

"Good. No more driving lessons, Edward! After the debacle with Alice last year, you should have learned your lesson."

Edward grimaced at the reminder and he glared at Alice, but otherwise he didn't react to his mothers reprimand.

"What's the damage, Rosalie?" Esme said.

"I can't really tell from here, but I'll drive it up to the garage and have a look at it."

"I'll drive it, Rosalie!" Edward refuted pugnaciously.

"Oh, no you won't, Edward. Give Rosalie your keys," ordered Esme. She was in full 'mother' mode.

"NOW!" she demanded when Edward hesitated.

Edward handed them over to Rosalie.

"You're grounded, Edward!" announced Esme. "You've lost your driving privileges for however long it takes to fix your car, plus seven days."

"_Wha ...what_?" asked Edward, stunned. Even I was shocked.

"You heard me! No driving unless it's an emergency."

"But, but we're supposed to get Bella's car from Seattle this week and drive it back to Forks." Edward objected.

"Do you want me to make it _fourteen_ days, Edward?" asked Esme grimly. There was a determined glint in her eyes.

Edward gasped audibly and gulped, but said contritely, "No, ma'am."

I spoke up. "Oh, Esme, please don't punish Edward. It wasn't his fault; I was the one behind the wheel. Punish me instead," I pleaded with her.

"Oh, I will," she agreed. "As soon as I can think of something! You were both foolish, but Edward should have known better. You kids are all going to be the death of me," she gasped, beginning to come down from her adrenalin high. I was as well and I thought Edward looked a little wan so he was probably feeling the affects as well.

"And you, Emmett," Esme continued her tirade, "don't think for a minute, that I don't know you were on the sidelines watching it all play out like it was some type of entertainment – I see the popcorn all over the lawn. You're the eldest and an adult – you should have stopped it. If I thought I could ground you too, I would. As it is, I'm disappointed in you. You too, Jasper," admonished Esme.

She was on a roll.

"Yes, ma'am," they caroled.

"Get that mess picked up," she ordered, indicating the popcorn peppering the lawn, "before the wildlife shits all over the grass," she said.

All six of us gaped at Esme. She hardly ever swore, but Emmett and Jasper hopped to it when Esme snapped her fingers at them sharply.

"You two, get in the house and go to your rooms," she told Edward and I. "Your own rooms – not each others – and you stay there until your father gets home which won't be long. He's on an early shift today."

...

"I'm sorry, Edward," I whispered as we walked toward the front door. I heard Esme ask Alice where Queenie Smith was, but I missed Alice's reply.

"I didn't mean to hurt your car or get you in trouble."

Edward's mouth was a tight line of silent fury.

I felt my mouth wobble and tears pricked at my eyes.

I sniffled.

Edward glared at me.

I sniffled twice.

Edward maintained his silence all the way into the house and up the stairs to the third floor. I turned to go into my bedroom when Edward stopped me with a hand around my arm above the elbow.

"What?" I sniffled.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"I'm obviously a useless driving instructor," he said.

I didn't argue.

"And I'm a crappy boyfriend because I made you cry, and for a long moment, I didn't care," he confessed unhappily.

To say I was shocked was an understatement, but I had to award him points for honesty. I did tell him yesterday, that truth in a relationship was important, I just didn't think it would hurt so much.

I turned away from Edward and walked through my open bedroom door, closing it quietly behind me.

…

A/N: Photos are on my blog – the link is on my profile page. You all know where the review button is – click on it and leave me your thoughts and comments; good or bad. I was listening to Michael Buble's Christmas CD while I wrote this – what a honey! His duet of Feliz Navidad with Thalia is one of the best I've heard and the orchestral music and choir accompanying the vocals is great.

Merry Christmas to all and a happy new year where ever you may be in the world. It's the 22nd of December in Australia and I'm heading off to North Queensland from Sydney tomorrow to spend Christmas with my brother, his family and my Dad. Mum's coming along from Melbourne as well. Whatever your religious faith is; whether you celebrate Christmas or not, please keep safe this holiday season. See you in 2012.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Stephenie Meyer is the author and owner of the Twilight Saga. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

…

Unbeta'd because I'm on holidays. All errors are mine.

…

A/N: This is just a short chapter because I'm still on holidays. It doesn't really affect the plot of the story but I felt like writing it. Edward gets a relationship lesson from his brothers (as ill-advised as it is) getting the guys into trouble.

…

Chapter 19 – Happy, um Wife, Happy Life!

I was really pissed with Edward and I let him know it by giving him the silent treatment for a few days. I responded when spoken to, in monosyllables, taking a leaf out of Edward's book. I refused to engage in extended conversation.

He didn't like it.

He let me know he didn't like it.

I didn't care.

Edward sulked!

Alice and Rosalie decided that Edward deserved the cold-shoulder when I confessed to them what Edward had said to me. Jasper remained silent on the subject until a certain manly conversation took place in the basement. Emmett ribbed Edward on and off for two days straight and lectured Edward about the art of selective truth, which unfortunately for him, was overheard by all three of us girls and his mother, when his booming voice carried up the basement stairs and through the open doorway into the kitchen where we were making lunch.

"Bro, listen to your big brother. I've had more experience with women," counseled Emmett, "and an often difficult woman at that," completed Emmett in a loud whisper, which we heard.

Rosalie shattered the shell of the egg she was holding sending it's runny contents all over her hand and the counter.

Esme cringed at her eldest boy's stupidity and shook her head.

"You can't always tell women the truth, Man. Sometimes you need to fib a little or just hold your tongue. Now, I know not saying what you think is hard for you, Edward, but if you don't want to be sent to the doghouse for most of your life, then you need to heed my advice," directed Emmett.

"But she said she always wants truth between us," whined Edward despondently.

"Yeah, Bro, on the important stuff like what house to buy or which school to send the kids to – that's what Dad told me (Esme gasped and her eyes glittered dangerously) – but on the trivial stuff you should always lie!" said Emmett, "_Especially_ if you know the truth is gonna get you in trouble."

"Trivial, like what?" asked Edward curiously.

"Well, for instances, if your woman says to you, _"Does my bum look big in this?"_ you say, _"No, Baby, you look gorgeous as always!"_ and if she asks you, _"Are you mad at me?"_ you say, _"No, Sweetheart, I'm pissed at me – it was all my fault," _even if it wasn't."

"But, what if her bum does look big?" asked Edward, "Wouldn't she want me to tell her?"

"NO!" yelled Emmett and Jasper.

"Ed, you _always, always_ lie about the size of her bum or how she looks in an outfit _even if_ her butt looks like she stuffed over-inflated balloons down the back of her jeans," instructed Jasper.

Alice rolled her eyes and tapped her foot in irritation, and then a look of horror crossed her face when she remembered she was wearing tight jeans. She dashed into the laundry to inspect her butt in the full-length mirror attached to one of the tall cupboard doors and we heard her sob-laugh of relief – her butt was as petite and shapely as always.

"And you _always_ offer to help her with stuff, Edward, like the dishes or the laundry or cleaning," Emmett added.

"Right," agreed Jasper, "And if she lets you help her, you do a really bad job so she has to go and re-do it. Then the next time you offer to help her, she'll smile at you lovingly and say, _"No honey, I've got this – you go watch the football," _and then you're home-free. You offered; she refused; you get to watch TV!"

"Ohh!" Esme gasped.

Alice walked slowly back into the kitchen with her hands on her hips and her mouth open. Her eyes narrowed as she eyed the open door to the basement.

"Yep!" we heard Emmett agree enthusiastically, "It works like a charm on Rosalie and now she cleans my room for me and does my laundry. I even tried it out on Mom a while back and after that first time when I deliberately made more mess than I was cleaning up, she always refuses my help. But you want to know the best thing?"

There was a short silent pause as we assumed Jasper and Edward were nodding their assent.

"Mom smiles at me and kisses my cheek in thanks because I offered to help her, and then she sends me on my way," explained Emmett. "Mom's proud of me for offering and I'm pleased because I can do whatever I want without feeling guilty that I'm _not_ helping her! There's a saying, Boys that Dad told me and I've never forgotten it."

"What is it?" they caroled eagerly.

"Happy wife, happy life!" recited Emmett smugly.

All three of them laughed and we heard the clink of glasses connecting as they saluted each other.

Esme, Rosalie, Alice and I looked at each other with identical expressions of stunned disbelief, but Esme was the one who verbalized the sentiment.

"Those conniving, bloody shits!"

Rosalie, Alice and Esme looked ready to spit galvanized nails – right at Emmett and Jasper's heads!

"He is in so much trouble!" spat Rosalie.

Alice and Esme nodded in agreement and I could see that Emmett, Jasper and Carlisle were in for a good tongue lashing from their women that night, and it wouldn't be the kind of tongue lashing they might otherwise enjoy!

Poor Carlisle. He wouldn't even know what he did wrong but he and his two elder sons would wish they'd never crossed the Cullen women!

Edward would be getting a, _'Don't even try it!'_ response from me, but I'd decided to let bygones be bygones – after letting him stew for a little while longer – and I was prepared to forgive him for telling me the truth, which I'd asked for in the first place!

To be honest, the guys weren't entirely wrong when they told Edward that sometimes telling a white lie to protect somebody's feelings was the right thing to do. I also know from watching my Mom interact with Phil, that women could be just as manipulative as men when it came to getting their man to do something they themselves didn't want to do. But, from the narrow-eyed expressions on Esme, Rosalie and Alice's faces, I think the Cullen mens method of getting out of housework was coming to an end.

"So what do I do now?" Edward asked when the guys laughter died down.

"You grovel," mumbled Emmett around a mouthful of the potato crisps he'd taken downstairs.

"A lot," followed up Jasper.

"You apologize. You say you're sorry and you'll never think something like that again, let alone say it to her. You tell her that the driving debacle was all your fault," instructed Emmett.

"But it wasn't," refuted Edward. "Bella didn't follow my instructions!" he said mutinously.

I ground my teeth. Maybe I'd let him stew another full day!

"You dickhead, it doesn't matter," said Emmett with exasperation.

"You ask _her_ to forgive _you_," said Jasper authoritatively, "otherwise she'll be bringing it up on your 50th wedding anniversary."

"Yep," agreed Emmett. "Women have loooong memories," he shared with an edge of fear present in his voice.

"Is that another piece of Dad's sage advice?" asked Edward.

"Yes! Listen to him. I did and it's saved my ass many times. How do you think Dad and Mom have remained happily married for nearly 25 years?"

"How?" asked Edward stupidly.

We heard the crack of Emmett's hand against hard flesh.

"Ow! Fuck, Man. Stop hitting me on the back of the head!" yelled Edward.

"Well, then don't be such a dickhead," ordered Emmett. "Dad follows his own advice, Edward."

"Huh?"

We could almost hear Emmett roll his eyes at a clueless Edward.

"Happy wife, happy life!" sang Emmett and Jasper.

"What the hell does that actually mean," asked Edward, "and none of us are married except Dad, so how does it apply?"

"It doesn't matter that we're not married, because the concept applies to all relationships. It means that as long as your woman is happy, then you'll be happy, because a miserable or vengeful woman takes it out on her man, which means that you're miserable as well!"

"Oh," said Edward, and then, "OH!"

The penny dropped. The light came on. He understood.

We heard the front door close behind Carlisle who returned home from a hospital shift just as our men came stomping up the stairs from the basement. All four Cullen men entered the kitchen to be confronted by four vengeful Cullen women.

The guys paled as they realized the basement door was open and we'd likely overheard everything.

They exchanged, 'Oh, Shit!' expressions of horror.

Carlisle, oblivious to what had just taken place, kissed a stiff Esme and strode over to the fridge for a can of coke.

"Happy wife, happy life, Carlisle? Really?" hissed Esme. "Is that the advice you give _our_ sons on how to communicate with their partners in life?"

Carlisle stiffened and crushed the can of coke he'd opened, forcing the brown, gassy liquid to spew into the air and down over his blond head. He shot a stricken look at his white-faced eldest son as he turned slowly to face his wife.

Emmett shrugged apologetically.

'Fuuuuccccckkkk!' read Carlisle's sticky face.

…

A/N: Review.

There are no photos posted to my blog this week.

Happy new year.


	20. Chapter 20

Hi All

No, this is not an update to OUaSN.

It is in fact, a shameless plug for my new story: Wrecked with Bella.

Synopsis: The Cullen's and Bella find themselves ship wrecked on a Pacific desert island. AH, cannon pairings.

Check it out and let me know what you think.

I'll have an update for OUaSN in a couple of weeks.

Regards

JKazzie


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